Squib Summer
by Ozma
Summary: COMPLETE. Co-written with Jelsemium. Sequel to Squib Caretaker. Filch comes to Harry's aid during a brief summer holiday in Muggle London. They encounter fearsome creatures including a Sphinx, a Harpy, and the Dursleys.
1. The Predators' Party

Squib Summer  
a Harry Potter fan-fic,   
by Ozma and Jelsemium  
a sequel to Ozma's Squib Caretaker  
  
Harry Potter and all recognizable characters are owned by J. K. Rowling   
and are used without permission or intent to make a profit.  
The less recognizable characters: The Grey Stalker, the Harpy, The   
Caoimhe Bean-Sidhe (Cavvy Banshee), Gormghlaith Mac Gabhann (Gor-em-lee   
Mac Gavin) and the Bookwyrm were created by Jill Weber (Jelsemium) and   
are used as shameless self promotions ala Gilderoy Lockhart.  
  
  
  
Prologue One: The Predator's Party  
  
  
The Sphinx sipped daintily on her Crème de Menthe as she surveyed the   
occupants of the human pub known as the Leaky Cauldron. Long ago,   
gatherings like this had provided her with amusement and sustenance.   
Then humans had started getting fussy about being eaten if they lost a   
riddle contest. So now all she got here were drinks and the occasional   
floor show when some Muggle-born's parents realized what she was. She   
smiled to herself and stroked the breast of her kestrel. Tom the   
Bartender wasn't happy about letting her come in, even with assurances   
that she wasn't here for food. However, even Tom wasn't likely to argue   
with her patron.  
  
*******  
  
The Harpy settled herself into a corner and tried to be inconspicuous.   
She knew that the Sphinx wasn't hungry; knew that because she knew the   
Sphinx's patron did not permit such things. However, the Sphinx was   
still part feline and the Harpy was part avian and the two species would   
never mingle comfortably. Maybe it was time to go. She would have left   
except that she was hungry and the Leaky Cauldron had the best   
shepherd's pie in England… even if they weren't made with real   
shepherds.  
  
*******  
  
Nagini was hungry. Her master would not let her feed properly. "The time   
has not yet come, my pet," he hissed. "We'll show those fools not to   
take us lightly. Until then, I need you to lay low. Even eating Muggles   
might draw too much attention to us, and I am not ready for a direct   
confrontation. Nor can I afford to let you have any of my death eaters."   
He'd smiled after that. "Although, if certain of them don't get in line…   
well, some have more than one child. Losing one or two of the extras   
might bring them in line."  
  
She had to be satisfied with that for the moment, so she was forced to   
make do with something else. Her errand for her master permitted her to   
go to Nocturne Alley, which was close enough for her to slip over to the   
Leaky Cauldron. She couldn't eat any of the patrons, but she could sneak   
into the cellar to capture a few rats and steal a bottle or two of wine.  
  
*******  
  
Caoimhe was on the prowl. Gliding invisibly down Diagon Alley in search   
of Gormghlaith Mac Gabhann, last of the Colla Mac Gabhann clan. The   
woman didn't know that she was all alone in the world.   
  
However, she would as soon as the Bean-Sidhe fulfilled her duties. The   
mortal cow was being difficult, however. The Bean-Sidhe had no idea what   
the woman did for a living, but it apparently involved apparating hither   
and yon like a bloody will-o-the-wisp. The Bean-Sidhe gnashed her teeth   
as she sensed her target apparating out of Diagon Alley and apparently   
out of England all together.  
  
Mortals! They had no appreciation for a hard working fairy woman's tight   
schedule. The Bean-Sidhe sighed and gave up for now. She'd tell the cow   
about her family soon enough. Right now, she needed a drink. She decided   
to head over to the Leaky Cauldron for a good stiff shot of whiskey.   
Bartenders were the only mortals she could bear to deal with, anyway.  
  
********  
  
Tom the Bartender sighed as he polished the spotless bar top with an   
equally spotless towel. The bar was going to lose money today, the   
longer certain patrons stayed on, the more they would lose. Very few   
wizards cared to spend time drinking and rendering themselves helpless   
in the presence of predators; particularly predators of the   
anthropophagus variety.  
  
"Tom! Another Crème de Menthe, if you please." 'Or even if you don't   
please,' ran the subtext. The speaker, a leonine female sitting boldly   
in the middle of the bar like Sphinxes commonly mingled with mortals,   
smiled. "Don't look so grim, Tom. The times, they change whether we wish   
them to or not."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Tom replied in Basic Bartender Neutral Tones.  
  
"Maybe I could cheer you up a bit. Would you care to hear a riddle? I've   
got a new one off the Bookwyrm not a fortnight ago."  
  
"No, thank you, ma'am," Tom said in long suffering tones.  
  
The Sphinx chortled in her drink and pulled some parchment out from the   
pouch around her neck. She knew her Patron WOULD enjoy this riddle. So,   
she might as well make use of her new kestrel to send it to him.  
  
Tom shot a glance to the back corner. 'At least the Harpy was making an   
attempt to be inconspicuous,' he thought. 'Of course, the Harpy didn't   
have the backing of such a powerful wizard, either.' He was glad when   
the Harpy's order came up, though. Quiet and relatively clean as the   
bird woman was today, she still made him nervous.  
  
"Here is your shepherd's pie, ma'am," he said politely. "Will you be   
having anything else?"  
  
"Yes, my good man," the Harpy rasped. Her eyes glittered as if with a   
private joke. "I'll have some blood pudding to follow and another   
Guinness Stout, please."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Tom said with a slight nod as he moved to fill her order.   
He looked around to see if there was anybody else in need of service. He   
sighed when a green skinned woman swept through the wall.  
  
"Tom! A whiskey and soda to wet my whistle. Be quick, I need something   
to calm meself down after a rough day. Honestly, working with mortals is   
enough to make me scream!" said the Bean-Sidhe.  
  
'Oh, goody,' Tom thought. 'What else could go wrong?'  
  
It was the wrong thing to even think. However, Tom wasn't the one who   
was going to pay for tempting fate like that.  
  
  
  
Prologue 2: The Boy Who Would Rather Be Anywhere Else  
  
  
"I don't want him to go," whined Dudley. "He always spoils everything."   
Actually, the grossly overweight teen was afraid that his cousin would   
make fun of him when he tried on clothes. He knew he'd make fun of   
Harry, if his Mum would ever be stupid enough to waste money on new   
clothes for his abnormal cousin.  
  
"Now, Dinky Duddy-ums," his mother cooed. "You know we have to get you a   
nice suit for this wedding. Daddy's new boss is getting married and you   
want to look nice, don't you?" She patted his shoulder anxiously.  
  
Harry Potter, sitting just out of her peripheral vision, smirked at   
Dudley. Harry didn't consider himself to be much to look at, especially   
with the scar, but at least he didn't need to get a custom fitted circus   
tent.   
  
Dudley scowled. He wished his mother would stop speaking to him as if he   
were three years old. He wished that Potter would drop dead or   
something. And he really didn't want to go to some swanky shop where the   
hired help, and Potter, would smirk at him while he tried on clothes.  
  
Petunia couldn't see Harry, but she could see Dudley's expression easily   
enough. Without turning around, she said, "Wipe that smirk off your   
face, Potter. You're coming with us, but don't expect to lollygag around   
in the shop. I'll not have decent people exposed to you."  
  
Harry sighed. "Yes, Aunt Petunia," he said with as much meekness as he   
could muster. It apparently wasn't enough, because Petunia boxed his   
ears as she passed.   
  
Dudley smirked as he 'accidentally' knocked into Harry and bounced him   
off the wall.  
  
"The taxi's here. Come along then, and no funny stuff! You'll get no   
lunch if you don't behave yourself."  
  
Harry sighed. He hadn't had any breakfast, since Aunt Petunia wouldn't   
let him eat until his chores were done. Then she'd insisted that he   
change into his least disreputable set of clothing. Now he knew why.   
  
Uncle Vernon had been bitterly complaining about the cost of taxis, but   
taking Dudley on the tube or a bus was just asking for trouble.  
  
Harry managed to squeeze himself into the back seat with Dudley while   
his aunt sat up front with the driver. "Behave yourself or you'll walk   
home," Petunia snapped.  
  
Harry sighed again. It was going to be a bad day. If he'd had a real   
idea of how bad, he probably would have thrown himself out of the taxi   
right then. It would have saved him some time and the end results would   
have been much the same.  
  
******  
  
Outside the Leaky Cauldron, in Muggle London, a grey clad female stalked   
the streets. She was close to starvation, but she did not enter the   
Leaky Cauldron, nor did she approach the Muggle food sellers. They would   
do her no good, for she did not eat solid food. She licked her lips and   
ran her tongue along the special tooth that ran along her upper palate.   
The venom sac was almost painfully full, it had been so long since she'd   
had a chance to use it.  
  
She dared not go into the Leaky Cauldron in search of prey. There was   
food in there, but all the magic was locked up inside wizarding folk who   
could defend themselves. Today there were even other Predators, and the   
Grey Stalker did not care to tangle with such. Like many predators, she   
preferred to target the young. Children's magic was especially easy for   
her to feed on, and they didn't have the control to fend her off. Magic   
children with non-magical parents were the most vulnerable, which is why   
she haunted the streets just outside of the entrance to Diagon Alley,   
waiting for the unwary and the unlucky…  
  
To Be Continued... 


	2. The Boy Who Was Followed

Squib Summer  
A Harry Potter fan-fic  
Chapter One: The Boy Who Was Followed  
By Ozma and Jelsemium  
  
The Music Store, 'Musically Inclined,' was created by Jill Weber   
(Jelsemium). The Tattered Cover Bookstore is actually in Denver,   
Colorado. All recognizable characters were created by J. K. Rowling  
The less recognizable humans aren't based on anyone in particular. The   
less recognizable creatures are loosely based on folklore and mythology  
  
  
  
  
The spell's presence was powerful and subtle. It was unlike anything I'd   
felt before; a deep musical note that seemed to resonate through the   
smoke-filled taproom of the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
I looked up, startled, to discover that no one else seemed to have   
sensed it. The murmurs of conversation all around me did not cease. Even   
Mrs. Norris, curled up asleep on my lap, did not stir.   
  
Feeling like a fool, I gazed into the depths of my drink. I'd ordered a   
gillywater. Being around all the Muggle-repelling spells in London was   
enough to make me feel a bit ill, without getting drunk into the   
bargain.  
  
"Enjoy London," the Headmaster had said, yesterday evening when he'd put   
me on the Knight Bus. "I may be gone before you return, but Hagrid will   
still be at the Castle for the next three days. After that, it's not   
likely that you will have another chance to get away for a while."  
  
"I don't need to get away," I'd grumbled.   
  
That was a lie, and Dumbledore knew it. The Professors had all left   
Hogwarts for the summer, headed for points unknown. I knew nothing about   
what tasks lay in store for them, and I knew better than to ask. I was   
especially worried about Minerva. Very recently the lovely Professor had   
become more than a dear friend to me.  
  
Unable to do anything to help her or anyone else, I had gone grimly   
about my summer chores, as best as I could.  
  
How could I be anything but grim at the prospect of cleaning up after a   
beast the size of Fluffy? And then, there was my redecorating project in   
Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. But I didn't want to think about that…  
  
"A change of scene will do you good," Dumbledore had said, firmly. Then   
he'd given me a few days off to take care of some long-neglected   
business in Diagon Alley.  
  
The Headmaster is usually right about most things. But, at the moment,   
the scenery in the Leaky Cauldron was a bit too "changed" for my   
comfort. There was most definitely a Sphinx curled, regally lion-like,   
in front of the bar. She was surveying the room through long, almond   
shaped eyes, while she sipped at a drink.  
  
And my nose told me of the Harpy, even before I spied the gleam of   
brassy wings in a shadowy corner. At least she wasn't flying about,   
putting people off their breakfasts. Quite the opposite, really; she'd   
put some effort into making herself tidy, enough so that the harpy-  
stench wasn't too offensive to the other beings in the taproom.   
Nevertheless, everyone was giving that corner a wide berth.  
  
And surely, that fey creature who'd just drifted into the taproom,   
surrounded by a haze of faint light, was a Banshee! What in Merlin's   
name was the Leaky Cauldron coming to?  
  
But, when the unknown spell began to ring inside the very hollows of my   
bones, I forgot about the Sphinx, the Harpy and the Banshee. Moving   
slowly, almost against my will, I stood, picking up Mrs. Norris. My cat   
made a small, indignant sound when I interrupted her nap. With her   
cradled in my arms, I moved towards the door leading into Muggle-London.  
  
Odd, that this potent spell was coming from the Muggle-side, not from   
Diagon Alley. If I'd had any sense, I wouldn't have gone to investigate.   
Perhaps I've been spending too much time around Gryffindors lately, it's   
my only excuse. Of course Minerva would have gone to investigate. She's   
brave. She wouldn't sit, staring into her gillywater, waiting for the   
feeling to go away.  
  
I stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron and the spell's power made me   
stagger. A woman seemed to be one of its focal points. A thin, blonde   
woman. The spell swirled around her without truly touching her. Near the   
woman was a very fat blond boy. He provided another focal point for the   
spell. The corona of ancient magic around the pair of them was so strong   
that I couldn't tell if they were wizarding folk or Muggles.  
  
Their party had a third member. He trailed behind the other two, dressed   
in clothing that I could tell was shabby despite my unfamiliarity with   
Muggle fashion.  
  
It took me a moment to recognize him.  
  
*******  
  
This was worse than Harry imagined. Not only were they in London, they'd   
halted just outside the Leaky Cauldron. Harry could almost smell the   
butterbeer from where he stood outside the music shop. Truthfully, it   
wasn't even a cool drink he was longing for, although he was feeling   
parched. It was the congenial atmosphere. He knew that, at the very   
least, Tom the bartender would be at hand.  
  
Harry was almost to the point where he'd take the Potions dungeons,   
Snape and all, to listening to his cousin whine any more. Dudley had   
stopped in front of the record shop and had started badgering Petunia   
for a new CD, and a new CD player to go with it. Dudley had broken his   
third or fourth CD player just two days ago when he'd had a tantrum   
about going to this wedding of Vernon's boss.  
  
Petunia was on the verge of giving in when she noticed Harry staring   
longingly in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. She glanced in that   
direction, then scowled because she saw nothing there. Normally, she'd   
assume that her freak of a nephew was just staring into space, but there   
was something in his expression that told her that he was seeing   
something dear to him. Something she couldn't see. Which meant that it   
was part of the freak world. "Come along, now," she snarled, hauling at   
both boys' arms.  
  
Dudley shot Harry a dirty look. "You always spoil everything," he   
whined. "I was that close to a new CD Player!" He held up his pudgy   
thumb and forefinger.   
  
Harry snorted. "Well, if you didn't go around destroying your things,   
you wouldn't need to replace them so often," he said.  
  
Petunia gave him a dirty look, but refrained from hitting him in public.   
Dragging two recalcitrant teen-aged boys through the muggy heat of a   
busy London morning would be enough to try the patience of a saint, or a   
Hufflepuff. Petunia Dursley was neither. Things got worse as Petunia   
began to notice the odd looks that Potter was getting from passer-by.   
Typically, she blamed Potter for his shabby appearance, although she   
knew full well that he was wearing the best clothing that he'd been   
given.  
  
When one of the onlookers actually made a comment, Petunia snapped. "I   
can't do a thing with this brat. You're welcome to take him, see if you   
can do a better job of making him behave."  
  
*******   
  
That caught her attention. Abandoned children fell into the Grey   
Stalker's purview. Though she had to admit, if only to herself, that her   
definition of 'abandoned' children probably wouldn't match that of their   
parents. She defined any argument between such a parent and such a child   
as 'abandonment.' It gave her a far wider choice of prey, for it was the   
rare child indeed who never argued with his or her parents. However,   
this offer, coming voluntarily from the boy's guardian, most definitely   
put this tasty morsel within her reach.   
  
*******  
  
When I saw The Boy Who Lived, all the pieces fell into place. I'd heard   
the Headmaster speak of an ancient magic that would protect Harry when   
he was in the care of his family. The woman and the boy… they must be   
Potter's Muggle relations. The ones that no one at Hogwarts seemed to   
think very highly of! Was the family so poor that they had to dress   
Potter like a beggar? But the aunt and the cousin had been dressed well   
enough, in their strange Muggle way. It was a puzzle…  
  
By the time I'd collected my wits, Potter, the woman and the boy were   
out of my sight, hidden among the crowd of people on the street. They   
were getting further away, but I could still feel the power that bound   
the three of them. It would be easy enough for me to follow, if I chose.  
  
Mrs. Norris jumped lightly down from my arms. Taking a few steps in the   
direction that Potter and his family had gone, she looked back at me and   
gave a loud mew.  
  
"Is it necessary go after him, my sweet?" I asked her. "He's with his   
family after all. It's none of our concern, really. Between his own   
magic and that protective spell around all of them, nothing harmful   
should be able to touch him."  
  
Mrs. Norris flicked an ear at me in an impatient way and headed down the   
street, a small grey panther slinking through a forest of legs.  
  
"Very well…" I sighed. Mrs. Norris' opinions on such matters are not to   
be dismissed lightly. I followed her, pushing my way past staring   
Muggles. Some were snickering. Others wore expressions of concern and   
pity.   
  
I glared. It wasn't as if I was doing anything unusual. I was merely   
speaking to my cat, not juggling purple balls of flame! Didn't Muggles   
ever talk to their cats?   
  
Potter and his relations were getting further away. Mrs. Norris moves   
much faster than I do. Keeping her in sight wasn't easy. London was so   
hot, so many people, so many noisy, wretched cars…  
  
I'd just followed Mrs. Norris across a busy thoroughfare (both of us   
escaped being struck by moving vehicles, in my case by inches) when I   
was assaulted by a sudden wave of foul magic.  
  
At first the stench of Darkness was indistinguishable from the reek of a   
large metal container full of rubbish, standing in a shadowy alley   
between grubby brick buildings. By the time I realized the danger, it   
was already too late to defend myself.  
  
Small hands, callused and strong, had seized my right arm in a grip as   
unbreakable as an iron manacle. I was swung forward, striking my head   
against the corner of one of the brick buildings.   
  
The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back in the alley. Choking on   
the combined stink of garbage and Dark magic, I became aware that   
someone or something was gripping my shoulders and sniffing at me.  
  
"Easy prey, this one, no need to waste my dart here. And there's some   
magic in him…," a sibilant, female voice hissed. The creature was   
breathing in my face. Her breath was even worse than Fluffy's.  
  
"But, how to get at it?" The voice was filled with frustration. "He's a   
tough, old nut. Too hard to crack his shell! And the meal would be a   
meager one, hardly worth the time and effort. The boy will be sweeter   
meat. A succulent feast…!"Now, I could hear the foul thing licking her   
lips.   
  
Could there be any doubt which boy she was referring to? Potter has a   
highly-developed gift for attracting trouble in every possible form.   
Merlin's Beard… couldn't he even walk down a street? Professor Snape   
swears up and down that Potter does this sort of thing on purpose. I   
have come to believe that the boy doesn't mean to attract danger, he   
can't help it, any more than poor Neville can help the fact that he's   
clumsy.  
  
"You can't have the boy…" I gasped, struggling to open my eyes. When I   
succeeded, my dubious reward was the sight of what appeared to be a   
small, swarthy, dark haired woman. She was dressed in shabby grey robes.   
  
I didn't think that she was a Death Eater, or one of the Dark Lord's   
minions. The Darkness that surrounded her was different, far more   
ancient and terribly hungry.  
  
She gave me an evil smile that seemed to contain far too many teeth.   
"Who's going to stop me then? You, Broken Wizard? Whatever small magic   
you have is locked away from you."  
  
With a cackling laugh, she let my head drop to the pavement. The pain   
was like an explosion of Filibuster Fireworks in my skull.  
  
*******  
  
Clothes shopping is boring at the best of times, not that Harry was   
really familiar with it. His experience with buying clothes had been   
limited to walking into Madam Malkins', getting his robes hemmed and   
then going off to get ice cream. Buying dress robes (please, no Yule   
Ball next year!) might have been different, but Mrs. Weasley had done   
that chore for him.  
  
Buying clothes for Dudley went beyond boring. Harry found himself   
wishing to be back in History of Magic. At least there he could put his   
head down and go to sleep. Here he had to stay awake and guard Aunt   
Petunia's purse and all the purchases. There was exactly one package in   
there for him, his new underwear. He'd asked for some in front of too   
many witnesses for Aunt Petunia to say 'no'. He'd pay for it later, he   
knew, but he wasn't about to pass up a chance for some decent fitting   
under things.  
  
Dudley wasn't helping matters any. His constant whining was finally   
getting on even his doting mother's nerves. "That was the last fitting,   
Duddy-kins," she cooed. "Now we can have a nice tea before going home."   
  
"I want a hamburger," whined Dudley.  
  
Harry actually sympathized. He had never been to any of Aunt Petunia's   
teas, of course, but having cleaned up after them, he'd noticed that the   
food seemed to consist of undersized sandwiches and little-bitty cakes   
too small to even taste. He'd rather have a hamburger, too. Not that he   
was going to get either tea or burger, he sighed to himself.  
  
He was startled out of his reverie when Aunt Petunia scooped the   
packages out of his arms. "We're going inside for a final fitting.   
There's a good restaurant in there that serves tea. Stay here and I'll   
bring you the leftovers."  
  
Leftovers? From a meal of Dudley's? Harry sighed, but Petunia just   
glared at him. "If you're not here when we come out, you'll have to make   
your own way home. I'm not putting myself out over a brat like you."  
  
Harry sighed again as Petunia and Dudley disappeared into the shop's   
cool interior. He considered slipping back to the Leaky Cauldron, he   
didn't have any money on him, or even his Gringott's key, but he bet   
that Tom would give him credit. He got up and looked around, then gave   
up. All the different errands had him so turned around that he had no   
idea which way the Leaky Cauldron was from here. He slumped onto a bench   
and tried to remember the name of the stores that flanked the wizarding   
tavern.  
  
"Are you all right, dear?"  
  
Harry looked up to see a small, swarthy dark haired woman dressed in a   
shapeless grey pantsuit.   
  
"You seemed a bit lost," the woman continued. There was something   
strange about her mouth. It reminded him somehow of some wild Japanese   
movie he'd caught Dudley watching once, where the actors words didn't   
synchronize with the lip movements.   
  
A lifetime of being told not to talk to strangers combined with recent   
events to make him feel a trifle wary, if not outright paranoid. So   
Harry answered cautiously. "Erm, no, ma'am, I was just trying to   
remember the name of a record shop that we just passed. It was right   
next to a bookstore, too," Harry thought that was safe enough. All the   
lessons in manners he'd gotten from his Aunt actually agreed with his   
first year DADA classes… keep a civil tongue in your head when spoken   
to.  
  
"Do you mean the ones that flank the Leaky Cauldron?"   
  
Harry's eyes went wide. Then her dark eyes flickered to his forehead and   
he realized she knew who he was. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, shifting his   
weight uneasily.  
  
"The music store is called Musically Inclined. It's as Muggle as they   
come. The bookstore is called The Tattered Cover. You can find a great   
many Muggle works there, and a great many more Wizarding books in there.   
The proprietors were there long before Diagon Alley was closed to   
Muggles."  
  
"Thank you, Ma'am," Harry said politely. He gave her his best 'I have no   
idea what McGonagall is talking about, so I hope she doesn't call on me'   
look."   
  
Would you like directions, Mr. Potter?" the woman sounded happy. For   
some reason, Harry didn't share her emotion. What he wanted was for his   
aunt and cousin to come out of the store so they could head for home.   
Even more, he wanted Dumbledore or Hagrid to show up. Even Snape would   
have been welcome at this point.  
  
"No thank you," Harry said. "I was just wondering."  
  
"Not thinking of how good some of Tom's shepherd's pie would taste right   
now?"   
  
Now that she mentioned it, Harry's thoughts drifted that way. His   
stomach growled. "Thank you, but I have to wait until my Aunt Petunia   
gets back."  
  
"Such an obedient child," she said that like it was an advantage to her.   
"Where is your family?"  
  
"Having tea," Harry said, growing more uneasy by the moment.  
  
"And you didn't want any," the woman said firmly. "I don't blame you.   
Little cucumber sandwiches never did much for me." She paused and her   
mouth twisted up into a little smile. One that showed no teeth. Harry   
was having doubts about which species she belonged to.   
  
"I have a suggestion, young Potter," The woman turned and pointed to a   
fish and chips shop with a walkup window. "The owner of that shop is a   
kindly woman with a great many grandchildren. She loathes to see   
children go hungry. If you offer to lend a hand tidying up the place,   
she would be happy to give you a bite to eat."  
  
"Thank you, Ma'am," Harry said.  
  
"You are quite welcome, Mr. Potter," the woman(?) inclined her head and   
walked away.   
  
Harry watched after her until she disappeared into the crowd. He looked   
over at the fish and chips shop wistfully. He had no idea how long Aunt   
Petunia and Dudley would be, and he hadn't eaten since yesterday   
evening. And all he'd had then was diet food.   
  
He decided that it couldn't hurt to ask.   
  
It took a while to get to the front of the line, apparently they were a   
popular eating place. When he got to the front of the line, he spoke to   
a sweet faced woman that didn't look old enough to be anybody's   
grandmother. But when he told her that he was waiting for his relatives,   
but had forgotten his lunch money, she suggested the same solution as   
the grey woman had.   
  
"We're awfully busy, sweetie. If I can get you to clear off the tables,   
then I don't have to send one of my cooks out there to clean up. That   
will help me out tremendously. When you finish, come around to the back   
door and I'll give you a bite."  
  
When Harry finished the clean up, he looked around. The line at the   
front of the counter had thinned out considerably. The sweet faced woman   
smiled at him and pointed to an alley that presumably lead to the back   
door. Harry nodded. He looked back towards Beau Brummels. Still no sign   
of his aunt or Dudley. He estimated that he'd only been working for half   
an hour or so. He could get his food and bring it back to where Aunt   
Petunia had left him. The set up seemed almost too good, but he couldn't   
see any flaw in the plan. So he went around to the back.  
  
*******  
  
The fish and chips woman, who was as kindly as she looked, wondered why   
the boy never came for his food. Probably ran into the relatives he'd   
been waiting for, she decided. She never thought to search the alley.   
After all, there had been no unusual noises from there.   
  
To Be Continued... 


	3. The Squib and the Dursleys

Squib Summer  
A Harry Potter fan-fic  
By Ozma and Jelsemium  
A sequel to Squib Caretaker  
Chapter Two: The Squib and the Dursleys  
  
All recognizable characters copyrighted by J.K. Rowling.  
The less recognizable creatures are based on folklore and might be under   
your bed.  
  
  
  
This was even better than she'd hoped when she'd started her hunt today.   
The Boy Who Lived! The Boy Who'd Defeated that Hissy Faced Upstart! He   
had some sweet magic indeed! Better yet, she could give the remains to   
the so called dark lord and maybe he'd feel obligated to repay her.  
  
But first, she'd have to get her prize home safely. She needed to wait   
until the inconvenient relatives left. Then a simple leash charm should   
be enough to get the boy to follow. She walked back behind the dust bin   
and looked at the crumpled figure. Such a child, for all his power and   
reputation, she gloated. So easy to deceive. So easy to overpower. She   
ran her tongue across her depleted venom sac. It reacted to magic. The   
more the boy tried to use, the more strongly the venom would affect him.   
It would also speed the decomposition of the body, once the boy was   
dead. Likely no human would ever discover what had befallen him.  
  
The grey woman watched the relatives leave, without more than a cursory   
look around. Looked like the woman wasn't even going to regret her hasty   
words. She kicked at some scrawny cat that had come nosing around, no   
doubt after fish. Then she started weaving the leash charm around the   
boy to ensure his cooperation.  
  
*******  
  
"Yes, I hear you. Not so loud, my sweet…" I moaned, dragging my eyes   
open again.   
  
Time had passed. I wasn't sure how much. Mrs. Norris and I were alone in   
the dim malodorous alley. For all the notice that the passerby's on the   
busy street nearby took of us, we might have been invisible.  
  
Sitting up slowly, I clutched at my head. My right temple was sticky   
with blood and a tender lump had started to swell.   
  
Mrs. Norris rubbed her small head against my side.  
  
"Potter is safe with his blood relations. Nothing should be able to get   
through that spell…" I said.  
  
Mrs. Norris yowled; a long heartsick wail. She waited while I stood,   
using the nearest brick wall to steady myself.  
  
When we started off again, I had to move slowly. My head throbbed as I   
felt for the traces of either the powerful spell surrounding Potter's   
aunt and cousin or the Dark stench of the hungry creature that had been   
pursuing Potter.  
  
Mrs. Norris moved slowly too though it was clear that she wanted to run.   
I wished that I could run. What if we were already too late?  
  
"He's defeated the Dark Lord any number of times. He's escaped from   
Death Eaters, slain a Basilisk and knocked out a Mountain Troll…" I said   
to Mrs. Norris, trying to quell the fear rising inside me.  
  
Now the Muggles on the street were regarding me with mingled pity and   
trepidation. I received a few looks of disgust as well. I supposed that   
their feelings were understandable. The stench of the alley clung to me   
and there was blood drying on my head. I moved unsteadily, as if I'd   
been drinking something much stronger than gillywater this morning.  
  
At least the Muggles were stepping out of my way now.  
  
I could feel no trace of the Dark creature. And, when I first sensed the   
spell around Potter's family again, I almost didn't recognize it. The   
spell was diminished now, an echo of what I'd sensed before.  
  
Confused, I allowed the thin blonde woman, her arms now full of   
packages, to pass me by. She'd given me a very wide berth and a look of   
profound disgust. The fat blond boy was lumbering behind her, his   
expression sulky.  
  
I looked past him down the street, anxious for the sight of a thin,   
shabby figure with wild hair, round glasses and drab, ill-fitting   
clothes. But there was no sign of Harry Potter. Without Potter's   
presence to act as a catalyst the spell had gone dormant. And the young   
wizard was now vulnerable, without the protection of his blood   
relatives!  
  
Frightened and angry, I reached out and grabbed the blond boy's meaty   
arm.  
  
"Where is he?" I hissed.  
  
"W-Who?" The boy asked fearfully, struggling to loosen my grip on his   
arm. He didn't succeed. Maybe I wasn't as strong as that Dark hungry   
creature, but I am stronger than I look.  
  
"YOUR COUSIN!" I shouted.   
  
I didn't yell Potter's name out loud, not sure who or what else might be   
listening. "He's supposed to be with you! You're supposed to be looking   
after him!"  
  
Nearby, a voice shrieked, "Dudley!"  
  
Potter's aunt had dropped her packages. She was swinging her handbag at   
my head. I dodged and she struck my shoulder instead.   
  
What did she have in there… a small bludger? My arm went numb, forcing   
me to release her great lump of a son.  
  
Then Potter's aunt screamed shrilly. Mrs. Norris had just sunk her claws   
into the woman's leg.  
  
"Mum!" The boy bellowed, grabbing for my cat. He was much too slow. All   
he received was a nasty set of scratches across one pudgy hand.  
  
I managed to pick up Mrs. Norris, cradling her against my chest   
protectively as I tried to think what to do.  
  
Obviously Potter's relatives had managed to lose him somehow! They must   
be even more worried about him than I was. No wonder they were so bad-  
tempered. Well, fighting among ourselves wouldn't help matters. I tried   
not to glare at them.  
  
Potter's aunt was glowering enough for everyone. The venom and malice in   
her eyes when she looked at me and Mrs. Norris would have even impressed   
Professor Snape.  
  
"Stay back, Dudley!" she hissed, stepping protectively in front of her   
huge son.   
  
The resemblance between this grim woman and little Lily Evans wasn't   
particularly strong. Still, there was something in the way that she   
stood and in the fierce, determined way that she held her head that   
reminded me of the pretty red-headed girl I had seen at Hogwarts years   
ago.  
  
I thought of Lily, shielding Harry with the very last of her strength.   
My expression would have softened, but for what Harry's aunt said next.  
  
"You're one of THEM, aren't you? Those FREAKS?"  
  
I flinched as if she'd taken another swipe at me with her handbag. Of   
course, Lily's sister must have seen the magic of true wizards. She'd   
been entrusted with the care of The Boy Who Lived, hadn't she? I didn't   
know how she knew that I was nothing but a Squib, but I couldn't blame   
her for thinking that I would be of no use to her in the search for the   
missing Potter. However, I didn't intend to tolerate rudeness. She was   
worried about her nephew, but that was no excuse.  
  
"I may have no proper magic of own, Madam. But few witches or wizards   
would be so ill-mannered as to call me a freak."  
  
"Did you just have the effrontery to call me *ill-mannered?*" Potter's   
aunt demanded incredulously. The temperature around us seemed to have   
dropped several degrees.  
  
Professor Snape is the only other person I know who can do that. It's   
not magic, it's a matter of personality. Having survived Snape's glares   
and sarcasm for years, I wasn't so easily cowed.  
  
"Would you prefer to be called `unrefined?' Or `discourteous?' Those   
terms would do as well," I retorted.  
  
"How dare you! You filthy, smelly …TRAMP!"  
  
"Mum…" the boy, Dudley, said, eyeing me. "He said that he has no proper   
magic. Maybe he can't hurt us."  
  
I didn't like the way this lumpish youth was looking at me. "Magic or   
not, the witch and wizard brats at the Castle all live in fear of me," I   
snarled. "And I don't need to be able to cast spells to deal with you,   
you great, soft pudding!"   
  
I looked as fierce as I possibly could. It was quite effective. Dudley   
shrank back, beside his mother.  
  
The aunt wasn't so easy to intimidate. She could take on a Basilisk,   
with a glare like that. (My money would still be on the Basilisk, but   
the giant snake would certainly know that it had been in a fight.)  
  
"I will forgive you your bad manners, Madam, if you will forgive me   
mine," I said, curtly. "I am Argus Filch, Caretaker at Hogwarts. I know   
that you must be the sister of Lily Evans Potter…"  
  
"I am Petunia Dursley," she said. Her tone was even frostier than mine.   
  
I gave her a brief nod, struggling to be more polite. "I can assure you   
that my goal is the same as yours. We must find the boy quickly. Where   
and when did you last see your nephew?"  
  
Her face twisted angrily. "The ungrateful brat refused to wait for us in   
the spot where I told him, quite plainly, to wait! He knew what the   
consequences would be if he chose to wander off. I informed him that he   
would have to make his own way home as a punishment if he got himself   
lost!"  
  
"I'm a great believer in consequences myself," I said. "Ordinarily. But   
your nephew may have gone missing for reasons beyond his control.   
There's something after him. Something terrible!"  
  
Her face twisted even more, her lips drawing back from her teeth in a   
snarl. Even Dudley stepped back.  
  
"Something terrible from *your* world of freaks and monsters, no doubt!"   
Petunia Evans Dursley hissed.   
  
"Wasn't it bad enough to have him dumped on our doorstep without so much   
as a by-your-leave? He's been turning our lives upside down ever since!   
Years of shame and embarrassment, and strange mishaps, terrifying   
accidents, and the boy never showing us a bit of gratitude for the food   
we give him or the clothes on his back…"  
  
I thought of Potter's thin body, and the ill-fitting, shabby clothes.  
  
"Am I expected to comb all of London for him now, to save him from the   
sort of trouble that ordinary, decent people should never have to face?"   
she snarled.   
  
"What can I -a mere Muggle- as YOUR sort call us, possibly do to save   
him!?"   
  
More appalled than I'd ever been in my life, I struggled to find my   
voice. "You're his aunt, his own flesh and blood…" I said. "All you have   
to do is be there! There's a spell…"  
  
"Do NOT," she spat, "speak to me of SPELLS! Dudley and I have already   
gotten in the way of enough dreadful and humiliating spells to last us a   
lifetime! You're from that… that PLACE he goes to. You help him!"   
Turning on her heel, she marched back to where she'd dropped her   
packages.  
  
A number of people were staring. This did not improve her mood.  
  
"What happened to your magic, then? Did you lose it?" It was Dudley. The   
boy was looking at me curiously.  
  
"I was born this way!" I growled, still staring in disbelief at the   
abhorrent creature he had for a mother.  
  
"Do you mean that you're …normal?"  
  
"No! Of course I'm not normal, boy! Didn't I just say so?"  
  
"Because you're one of THEM and you can't do magic?"   
  
"Yes," I said, making an effort to soften my tone a bit. The poor great   
lump was obviously simple-minded. "Your Aunt Lily was born into a Muggle   
family, wasn't she? Sometimes, though not very often, a wizard and a   
witch will have a child who is like me."  
  
Squibs aren't exactly like Muggles, but I wasn't about to attempt to   
explain the difference.  
  
"And they're afraid of you? Those kids at Potter's school? Why? What do   
you do to them?"  
  
I gave him another glare.   
  
He flinched.  
  
"The Headmaster does not allow me to chain them in the dungeons," I said   
gruffly. "I make them scrub, sweep, polish and dust."  
  
"We're not supposed to lock Potter in the cupboard under the stairs any   
more," Dudley said. "But Mum's always made him clean a lot of things.   
Ever since he was little."  
  
Suddenly, I felt quite ill.   
  
"Come along, Duddy-dear! We have to find a taxi! Let that nasty old   
tramp worry about your ungrateful cousin!"   
  
Petunia Dursley, packages in hand, was trying to sound as if she wasn't   
still furious. I could hear the rage under her sugary-sweet tone.  
  
"Potter's probably okay," Dudley muttered. "He's stronger than he looks.   
Faster too."   
  
"Diddy-Darling! Come along now!"  
  
Dudley spoke to me, under his breath.   
  
"Potter was supposed to wait for us in front of Beau Brummels. It's down   
that way." The boy pointed.  
  
"Thank you," I said numbly, holding Mrs. Norris as if I could draw   
strength from her.   
  
Dudley was already lumbering away after his mother.   
  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
  
Ozma and Jelsemium would like to thank everyone who commented on chapter   
one of "Squib Summer!"  
  
Shadowycat: Thanks!! -Ozma  
  
Yes, Harry blew it. At least he DID resist the temptation to try and   
find the Leaky Cauldron based on the Grey Stalker's directions.   
-Jelsemium  
  
emma: Thank you!!-Ozma   
Thanks, if you like my style, maybe you'll like my other stories. -  
Jelsemium  
  
  
Darklady: Thank you!! Ozma & Jelsemium  
  
Minnowgirl: Thank you!! - Ozma   
  
Thanks for the kind words and for saying what parts especially worked   
for you - Jelsemium  
  
Saphron: Thank you!! From Ozma & Jelsemium  
  
Yes, poor Filch is developing a talent for getting himself into trouble,   
isn't he?   
  
Andrea13: Thank you!! But, cliffhangers are only bad and scary in OTHER   
people's stories. The "Sphinx, Harpy and Bean-Sidhe walk into a bar..."   
line cracked me up!- Ozma  
  
Cliffhangers are my very best friend in the whole world, at least when   
I'm writing the story -Jelsemium (Oops, how'd we let that Knockturn   
Alley/Nocturne Alley thing slip by?) -Jelsemium  
  
alla: Thank you!! Ozma & Jelsemium  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! -Ozma  
  
Thanks for the kind words and for saying what parts especially worked   
for you - Jelsemium  
  
  
Falco: Thank you!! -Ozma   
  
Thanks, I do like creating alternate villains for Harry to play with.   
I'm so nice to him. -Jelsemium  
  
  
Rabbit-and-Jinx!! Thank you!! Oooh! Screams!! (God, I miss the   
screaming... ;-) ) The spell around Harry, Petunia and Dudley drowned   
everything else out and give Filch's senses the magical equivalent of   
those bright spots you see after someone takes a picture and you can't   
see much else for a little while afterwards. -Ozma  
  
Thanks for the comments about the roster of predators, fellow evil   
cliff-hanger writer. Tom probably has good protection. Besides, no one   
would eat the bartender! How would they get any service? As for just   
eating Harry's magic ... it's like that pound of flesh thing. How do you   
get it without taking a lot of other stuff? Only in this case, the Grey   
Stalker never agreed to NOT take anything else. Thanks for the comment   
about the Shepherd's Pie. I could have resisted that, but I didn't see   
why I should - Jelsemium  
  
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! The idea of a drunk Nagini is funny, isn't   
it? The Grey Stalker is Jelsemium's adaption/invention. -Ozma  
  
Actually, you didn't miss anything. Ozma put the first chapter and the   
prologue up at the same time. Thanks for saying what parts worked for   
you. The Grey Stalker is mostly my own invention, an adaption from the   
ubiquitous Bogeyman/Nursery Bogey/Thing that Parents Threaten Children   
With To Make Them Behave. I figured that Quirrel had to have taught   
*something* in his class, and the `keep a civil tongue in your head' is   
one I've picked up from many folk-tales where the polite daughter gets   
rewarded and the rude daughter gets hers --Jelsemium  
  
AET: Thank you!! From Ozma & Jelsemium  
  
Jelsemium: Hi, there, pardner! Look at all these really nice reviews   
we've got!! -Ozma  
  
  
Ozma thanks everyone who reviewed chapter six of "Squib Apprentice."  
  
oO WTH: Thank you!! Hmmm. Filch and Madam Pince? Honestly, I'd never   
thought about them before I read your comment. Now, I can see them   
bickering and bantering; two strong-willed people who have much in   
common and are accustomed to being in charge of their respective   
domains. Madam Pince may yet show up in a story of mine...  
  
Alia: Thank you!! I have bits and pieces of ideas for a Marauder-era   
Filch story, but no complete plots yet.   
  
Yes, Snape seems like someone who was abused as a child to me, too.  
  
Alchemine: Thank you!! New chapters of "Squib Apprentice" may show up. I   
keep thinking that the story's done and then I get more ideas.   
Dumbledore's treating Filch like an adult meant even more to Filch   
because of his "handicap." Filch had felt as if he'd never truly be   
considered `of age' because of his lack of magic.  
  
Shadowycat: Thank you!! Pringle honestly thinks that he's being too soft   
with Filch. (Why, Pringle hardly ever beats the clumsy brat!) I love the   
idea of the feuding suits of armor too!   
  
No, at that point in time Dumbledore doesn't know that Filch can sense   
other people's magic. He may know other Squibs who can do it, but Filch   
doesn't discuss his own abilities with anyone until he's much, much   
older.  
  
Cloudshape: Thank you!! I'm glad that you found the Filch-section!! I'm   
also intrigued by the relationship between just-reformed Death Eater   
Severus, and Filch, but have had no complete plot ideas yet. It's not   
likely that Filch would know what Snape had been or what he had done.   
Filch is perceptive though, and would definitely have sensed the younger   
man's bitterness, sorrow and shame.  
  
Saphron: Thank you!! When Filch was young Dumbledore didn't know that   
Filch could sense magic. Filch never considered anything he could do to   
be an actual "ability."  
  
Deu: Thank you!! Yes, you can translate my stories into German!! I'm   
pleased and honored that you'd like to!!  
  
Spark-Chick: Thank you!! Eeeep! The thought of encountering Grindelwald   
has poor young Filch cowering under his bed...  
  
Virginia: Thank you!!  
  
A.Lee: Thank you!!  
  
J. Odell: Thank you!! My ideas about Grindelwald are strongly influenced   
by Alchemine's excellent stories.  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Yes, Filch is stubborn. The idea of being a   
Gryffindor has Filch shaking his head in dismay. Gryffindors are so   
reckless! Charging into danger without a thought for the consequences!   
Which forces more sensible people to go rushing after them to make   
certain they don't get themselves killed!  
  
Andrea13: Thank you!! Yes, that was the first time that anyone had ever   
treated Filch like an adult. Dumbledore won Filch's respect and trust   
forever.  
  
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! Yes, it would be really startling to wear   
armor that has its own ideas about how to win a battle...  
  
Ack!! The thought of Filch encountering the Basilisk when he was working   
on the Castle's plumbing sends chills down my spine. Poor Filch. He's   
luckier than he realizes.  
  
Yes, Filch and Pringle are a good match where temperament is concerned.   
I'd imagine that it was very hard for Pringle to find an apprentice that   
would work compatably with him. He would have been BRUTAL with any   
apprentice who had stronger magic than his own. Filch didn't make the   
old man feel inferior or intimidated. In the beginning, Pringle was   
insulted that Dippet believed a Squib was capable of doing his job. But   
Filch was so nervous and insecure that Pringle eventually ended up   
feeling protective, though he never would have admitted it.  
  
Aurendel: Thank you!! Squib Summer is here!  
  
Lyansidde: Thank you!! Yes, I agree that part of the reason that Filch   
has survived so long is that no one was aware of what he could do. 


	4. The Grey Woman's Lair

Squib Summer  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
By Ozma and Jelsemium   
a sequel to Squib Caretaker  
Chapter Three: The Grey Woman's Lair  
  
All recognizable characters copyrighted by J.K. Rowling.  
The less recognizable ones might be under your bed.   
Have you looked under there, lately?  
  
  
  
Harry came to without any idea of how he'd come to be asleep in the   
first place. He gradually realized that he was walking. 'Wonderful, I'm   
sleep walking now?'   
  
The more aware of his surroundings he became, the more alarmed he   
became. He wasn't anywhere he was supposed to be. And he was being towed   
along by somebody he strongly suspected wasn't human.  
  
"Come, my sweet," crooned the Grey Woman. "It's getting late and I'm   
hungry."  
  
Harry didn't want to go with her. He was hungry, too, but he had a   
feeling he wasn't going to be a guest at this meal. He tried to turn   
away, but something other than the grip on his wrist was pulling him   
along after the Grey Woman. It wasn't exactly the Imperius curse, but   
the idea was obviously the same.  
  
"Oh, no, you don't," he thought, and he began fighting in earnest.  
  
*******  
  
As impossible as it was for me to fathom, Potter's family had simply   
abandoned him to his fate.  
  
No, that wasn't quite true. "You're from that PLACE he goes to…" the   
Aunt had told me, furiously. "YOU help him!"  
  
Of course I would. Someone had to! Dazed, I stumbled down the crowded   
street in the direction that Potter's cousin had indicated.   
  
Mrs. Norris struggled frantically to get down from my arms. My cat's   
yowling urged me to hurry! The boy was in terrible danger! When I   
released her she leaped to the pavement and took off at a run.  
  
Ignoring my headache, I hurried after her as quickly as I could. The   
Muggles were giving me an even wider berth than before. Dirty, wild-eyed   
and disreputable as I looked, I couldn't blame them.  
  
As I ran, I tried to open up the part of my mind that can sense magic. I   
pushed myself harder than I'd done in a long time. There are many   
wizarding places hidden within the city, but I was searching for   
something older, darker and wilder.  
  
Nothing…!  
  
Nothing…!  
  
Nothing…!  
  
Wait…!  
  
In city streets filled with Muggles, the spell stuck out like a sore   
thumb. Some sort of powerful binding spell, though it was unlike any   
magic I'd sensed before. I didn't know what sort of creature had taken   
Potter, but she wasn't human.  
  
Focused only on this spell I stumbled along, hardly taking notice of my   
surroundings. Dodging people, cars and lorries, ducking around dustbins,   
I kept pace with Mrs. Norris. I didn't realize how far we'd walked until   
I realized that we were getting near the river…  
  
In yet another miserable alley, I collapsed next to a building that   
seemed to be abandoned and empty. I was dizzy, aching and exhausted, and   
there was a terrible stitch in my side.  
  
Mrs. Norris, tireless as ever, yowled at me. She had stopped outside a   
small, dark ground level window that appeared to lead into a basement. A   
few pieces of glass were still attached to the window frame. When I rose   
unsteadily, Mrs. Norris mewed at me and promptly leaped into the   
darkness.   
  
Wrapping my coat around my hand and arm, I knocked the glass shards   
away, so I could follow her. The window was a tight fit, and I couldn't   
see how much of a drop it was.  
  
After a second that felt like an eternity, I landed, crouched, on a   
stone floor about six feet below the window. The stench of old, hungry   
magic was everywhere in here. It had soaked into the walls, the floor,   
the air. The light that was able to penetrate this chamber was grey and   
sickly.  
  
Weaving our way through a jumble of broken crates, battered and   
discarded bits of furniture, scraps of rags, old clothes and mouldering   
newspapers (Wizarding and Muggle,) Mrs. Norris and I followed our   
senses. Broken glass crunched under my feet, along with what appeared to   
be pieces of bone.  
  
There were voices in the gloom. One that was recognizable as Potter's,   
raised in defiance. And another voice that was simultaneously hungry and   
affectionate, a disturbing combination.  
  
"Fight me all you like, my child!" the creature crooned. "A strong,   
brave spirit gives a meal such a lovely flavor!"  
  
"I'm NOT your child! I'm not anything of yours! Especially not your   
dinner!" Potter snapped.  
  
"That's where you're wrong. Breaker of Dark Wizards you might be, but I   
am the Greyling, Devourer of Abandoned Children and you're mine now.   
You're unwanted, abandoned by your guardian. You're my rightful prey.   
But, go on, struggle if you don't believe me! It won't do you any good.   
In accordance with the ancient laws, my hold on you is unbreakable."  
  
I called out, answering the creature before Potter could speak.  
  
"The boy is NOT abandoned!" I gasped, stumbling around a pile of moldy   
cardboard boxes.  
  
In the sickly light of a another small, broken-glassed window, Potter   
and the Grey Woman stood facing each other. The boy's thin body was   
tense. The Grey Woman had no visible hold on Potter. But the foul spell   
that held him captive felt overpoweringly strong to me at such close   
range.  
  
The creature didn't react to what I'd said. But, I could feel the ripple   
that passed over her binding spell. It was like a wind across the   
surface of a lake.  
  
"You again! Broken Wizard, I should have snapped your neck when I had   
the chance," the Grey Woman grumbled. "You're with him?" she hissed,   
glowering at Mrs. Norris.  
  
My cat gave her an unblinking, golden stare.  
  
"Mr. Filch…?" Potter's eyes were wide with shock. "What are you doing   
here?"  
  
"Hullo, Potter. Nice to see you too," I said, grumpily. "Your Aunt   
Petunia sent me to help you."  
  
The boy's green eyes got even wider. "S-She DID?"   
  
Poor Potter. He seemed even more surprised about that than he'd been at   
the sight of me. Having met his Aunt, I could understand why.  
  
I nodded at Harry, and then turned to glare at the Devourer. "You know   
who this Boy is! Can you truly believe that HE'S unwanted and   
abandoned?"  
  
"He's as good as cast off, if you're the best champion that his guardian   
could send," the creature said, giving me a toothy smile.  
  
I was unfamiliar with the ancient laws that she'd spoken of, but her   
mention of them was reassuring. Laws could be made to work for Potter   
and me too. She'd called me the Aunt's champion….  
  
"Petunia Evans Dursley, sister of this boy's mother, sent me to help   
him," I repeated.  
  
The Binding Spell rippled again as I spoke, then it started to fray.   
Potter had never ceased struggling to be free, and his efforts began to   
pay off. The Binding on him began to feel increasingly stretched and   
thin.   
  
"Keep away from her, Mr. Filch," Potter shouted. "She's stronger than   
she looks!"  
  
I'd already discovered that for myself, thank you very much. I had a   
bloody lump on my head to prove it. But someone had to try to keep her   
from recapturing him once he got himself free.   
  
As Potter finally snapped the Binding Spell, I tackled the Grey Woman.  
"RUN, BOY!" I bellowed, trying to knock her down.   
  
Mrs. Norris came to my aid, spring towards the Devourer's face with a   
flash of claws. My sweet one is a fierce fighter; the creature's face   
and arms were considerably bloodied before she managed to fling my cat   
away from her.  
  
Then the Grey Woman's hands closed around my throat like bands of iron.   
She began to squeeze.  
  
"Boy…" I heard her croon over the roar of blood in my ears and the   
desperate pounding of my heart. "Brave Harry Potter. Will you abandon   
your deliverer to his fate?"  
  
Ineffectually, I clawed at the Grey Woman's hands. I heard Mrs. Norris   
yowling. She was probably clawing at the creature's legs, but the Grey   
Woman's hold on me remained strong.  
  
"Come to me, Harry Potter. Now. Or I will break the old man's neck." The   
Grey Woman's hands never left my throat, never stopped squeezing.  
  
"You can't have him… he's run away, he's safe," I thought as my vision   
dissolved into grey fog. I crumpled to my knees, then collapsed to the   
floor.   
  
Then I heard Potter's voice. "Let him go!" the boy shouted.  
  
"Gryffindors!" I thought in despair, as the blackness took me.   
  
  
To Be Continued  
  
  
  
  
Authors' Notes:  
  
  
Shadowycat: Thank you!! Yes, poor Filch is gaining some uncomfortable   
insights into Harry's home-life. -Ozma  
  
Thanks! After reading Ozma's Filch stories, I wanted to see how Argus   
would react to the Dursleys. And how the Dursleys would react to Argus.   
So I cleverly lassoed Ozma into writing this with me... heh heh -   
Jelsemium  
  
Arundel: Thank you!! Ozma & Jelsemium  
  
Rabbit-and-Jinx: Thank you!! Yes, Petunia didn't want to have to explain   
anything about the wizarding world to a policeman. It might have been   
worse than embarassing, the police might have thought she was a few   
sandwiches short of a picnic. -Ozma  
  
Thanks for the review! I hadn't thought about what Vernon's reaction   
might be. Might be amusing to see. As for doing a whole chapter without   
resolving any cliffhangers... does the phrase: "Yet Another Snape Meets   
the Dursleys story" ring a bell? Latest chapter ends with a lot of   
screaming? Hasn't been updated since November THIRD?? -Jelsemium  
  
Larania: Thank you!! -Ozma  
  
Hitting the Dursleys is liable to hurt your hand and make it hard for   
you to use your computer! Sic your cat on them instead. (And thanks for   
the kind review.) -Jelsemium  
  
Mysterious Unsigned Reviewer: Thank you!! I couldn't see Filch attacking   
a lady, but Mrs. Norris has no such compunctions. I believe that there's   
still some hope for Dudley. He can't help how he was raised. Perhaps   
there's a decent person in there somewhere. Yes, Petunia is a horrible   
woman, but some of her antipathy for the wizarding world seems   
understandable to me. (It's her attitude towards poor Harry that makes   
me loathe her.) -Ozma  
  
Thanks for your kind comments. You have a good point about how Petunia's   
brushes with bigoted wizards haven't really improved her mindview   
towards them. -Jelsemium  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! The idea that Petunia might consider ALL   
wizards `Freaks' is simply too alien a concept for poor Filch's mind to   
grasp. He's used to thinking of himself as different and odd, so he   
assumed that Petunia meant the term to apply specifically to him.   
(There's more of Filch's reaction to how Harry gets treated in later   
chapters.) -Ozma  
  
Thanks for the compliments! I thought that we did a good job with   
Petunia's pettiness. I suppose that it's only appropriate that reading   
our reviewer responses is like getting Christmas presents, since reading   
reviews is the same. Thanks for reviewing the story! - Jelsemium  
  
The Amazing Maurice: Thank you!! -Ozma  
  
Thanks! Glad you like this! All your questions will be answered in good   
time, Young Grasshopper! - Jelsemium  
  
Three Sickles Short: Thanks!! The idea of Filch criticizing Petunia's   
manners was just too delightful for me to resist. -Ozma  
  
Thanks! Yes, I believe Petunia would know a big word like effrontery.   
Fits my view of her as being a frustrated Ravenclaw at heart. I think   
that being relegated to the role of a mere housewife is one of the   
reasons that Petunia is so bitter.) -Jelsemium  
  
Saphron: Thanks!! Ozma & Jelsemium  
  
Spark-Chick: Thanks!! The comparison between Snape and Petunia seemed so   
natural. Here's a new chapter!! -Ozma  
  
Thanks! I thought that the spat between Argus and Petunia was inspired.   
(I can say that because Ozma wrote it.) -Jelsemium  
  
A. Lee: Thanks!! -Ozma & Jelsemium 


	5. The Predators' Court

Squib Summer  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
by Ozma and Jelsemium  
a sequel to Squib Caretaker  
Chapter Four: The Predator's Court  
  
All recognizable characters copyrighted by J.K. Rowling.  
The less recognizable ones might be under your bed.  
And I'm not talking about those dust bunnies, either.  
  
  
  
  
I ached all over. And I was lying on a stone floor, chained in the dark!   
  
My throat was bruised and sore. I couldn't scream. It took me a moment   
to realize that only my right wrist was manacled. My left hand was free.   
Rubbing at my throat, I took painful breaths that sounded like sobs.  
  
Harry Potter was calling my name. "Mr. Filch? Can you hear me? Open your   
eyes! Please!"  
  
"Stupid… Gryffindor…" I rasped, weakly. "Why didn't you run…? You were   
supposed to run!"  
  
"She was going to kill you," the boy pointed out.  
  
"She'll kill both of us now," I choked, dragging my eyes open. "Listen,   
boy, when someone is trying to save your life it's considered good   
manners to allow yourself to be saved! You're just as bad as your   
godfather!"  
  
If I'd expected the boy to be insulted then I was to be sadly   
disappointed. Potter looked honored by the comparison. His expression   
was visible in the grey sickly light that shone down all around us.  
  
We were no longer in the basement room of the abandoned building near   
the river. We'd been moved to a huge dim chamber. I had a sense of being   
somewhere underground. Water dripped and flowed from somewhere far   
above.  
  
Potter was sitting cross-legged on the stone floor beside me. There were   
no chains on him, no binding spells. He appeared unharmed. Mrs. Norris   
was beside him, her grey fur fluffed out in alarm. It took me a few   
moments to understand why.  
  
Outside the circle of grey light that surrounded Potter and me there was   
an expanse of darkness. The darkness was filled with glowing eyes.   
Dreadful things were moving beyond the light. Things that whispered and   
hissed while they slithered and flopped nastily against the stone floor.  
  
"The Grey Woman told them not to harm me," Potter explained in a calm   
voice when he saw me notice the eyes. "I don't think her orders were   
necessary. They don't seem to want to come near me. But, the Grey Woman   
said that they could do whatever they liked with you and Mrs. Norris. If   
I wasn't here they'd probably eat you."  
  
"W-What are they?" I whispered, sitting up slowly. The chain clanked as   
I drew my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them.   
  
"I don't know," Potter said.  
  
"Where's the Grey Woman gotten herself off to?" I asked, trying to stop   
shuddering.  
  
Potter shook his head. "I don't know that either. She was furious. When   
she saw that I wouldn't leave you, she dragged you down here and chained   
you to the floor. Then she said something about going to a Council of   
Predators for justice, according to the ancient laws. Have you ever   
heard of a Council of Predators?"  
  
I shook my head.  
  
"Maybe Hermione would know, or Ron," Potter said, wryly. "But I'm just   
as glad that Ron and Hermione are somewhere safer than here." He paused   
and looked around. "Mr. Filch," the boy asked, hesitantly, after a few   
moments. "How did you break the Grey Woman's hold on me? D-Did my Aunt   
really send you to help me?"  
  
"More or less…" I said.   
  
"I'm sorry for the all the rude things that Aunt Petunia probably said   
to you," Potter said, ashamed. "I'm sure that she yelled at you and   
called you a freak."  
  
"I've been called worse," I said, shrugging. "Did you tell her that I'm   
a Squib? How did she know?"  
  
Potter looked startled. "She didn't call you a freak because you're a   
Squib! She thinks ALL witches and wizards are freaks. My Mum and Dad,   
Hagrid, Ron and his whole family. And me. Especially me… I'm really   
sorry."  
  
The more I learned about the boy's Muggle relations, the more horrified   
I became. "Listen, Potter, stop apologizing! If your own flesh and blood   
won't accept you for what you are, it's not your fault!" My voice   
cracked.   
  
"I should be sorry, boy. You're the only one besides me and the house-  
elves who knows to dust all the way to the edges of things. You always   
move the furniture when you sweep the floor. You polish the backs of the   
trophies without being told. And I never thought about it. I never   
wondered why."  
  
"It's okay, Mr. Filch…"  
  
"No! It's not! My family ought to have considered me a shame and an   
embarrassment, but they never did. They wanted me to have a place in the   
world, so they taught me to work hard. I assumed it was the same with   
you. That's what I thought, Potter, I didn't know… I swear it!"  
  
"Mr. Filch…" Potter said, helplessly. "It's all right. I didn't expect   
you to know… I didn't want anybody to know. Snape and his Slytherins   
have enough ammunition to use against me as it is." He stopped, gasping   
a little as if short of breath. Then he continued in a bitter, self-  
recriminating tone. "Besides, I probably deserve being treated like a   
freak. I'm nothing but trouble."  
  
Before I could protest, Potter continued. "Right now, we have more   
important things to worry about, don't we?"  
  
He had a point about that.   
  
Mrs. Norris was keeping her unblinking gaze on the glowing eyes that   
surrounded us. And Potter was rummaging around in the pockets of his   
extremely baggy trousers. Producing a hairpin, he stared doubtfully at   
my manacled wrist.  
  
"I don't think this is going to work…" he murmured, avoiding my gaze,   
embarrassed by the things that both of us had said. He put the hairpin   
back in his pocket. "It's not strong enough to work on this lock. If I   
had my wand with me, I'd have you free in a moment."   
  
"No wand? You picked a fine time to start following the rules," I   
grumbled.   
  
Potter grimaced. "Aunt Petunia dragged me out of the house before I even   
had a chance to think about grabbing it."   
  
"What about your little thief in the night trick?" I asked. "That would   
be helpful now."   
  
Potter looked at me blankly, then he caught on. "Oh, sorry, I don't have   
my Invisibility Cloak with me, either."  
  
"What? Y-You really DO have an invisibility cloak?" I cried.   
  
The boy nodded. "Professor Snape knows all about it. Hasn't he ever   
mentioned it to you?"  
  
"Yes, a time or two…" I answered, which was something of an   
understatement. Severus had been insistent on the subject for years. "I   
thought he must be mistaken! The Professor can be a bit… well… you know.   
At least, where you're concerned. Poor man! I owe him an apology!"   
  
Actually, an apology was only half of what I owed Severus where the   
matter of Potter's Invisibility Cloak was concerned. I'd also made him a   
promise. I hoped I'd be alive to keep it.  
  
"Why apologize to him?" Potter asked, puzzled. "It's not as if Snape   
ever says he's sorry to anyone. He certainly ought to have apologized to   
Neville, at least. Remember when Snape took points away from Gryffindor,   
on that day when Neville warned him that the Slytherins were in danger?"  
  
"`Professor Snape'" I corrected Potter, automatically, "was wrong about   
Neville, but he was right about your cloak. I should have believed him."  
  
Poor Severus! To have been right all these years and not to have been   
believed! That sort of thing hurt him more deeply than he would permit   
anyone to see. I felt absolutely wretched. What a fool I was! It was a   
wonder that the Professor put up with me.   
  
"Apologizing to him might make me feel better," I told Potter, gruffly.   
  
The boy was silent, frowning. Then his stomach rumbled. "Sorry," he   
murmured, embarrassed.  
  
"It's all right," I said. I was hungry too. Looking around us, at all   
the eyes glowing in the dark, I decided that I didn't want to think   
about food.  
  
"You should have run when you had the chance," I said, unhappily. "The   
Grey Woman had no hold on you. Those things out there won't come near   
you. You would have been safe."  
  
"When someone is trying to save your life, it's considered good manners   
to allow yourself to be saved," Potter said, dryly.  
  
He was using my own words against me! What cheek!  
  
I glared at him. "Trying to keep you brats out of trouble is what I do.   
It's my job!"  
  
Potter sounded very tired. "It's not your job to die because of me. I   
couldn't leave you and Mrs. Norris down here, alone with those things.   
When Voldemort kills people I see it happen, and there's nothing I can   
do." His voice cracked and he fell silent.  
  
When Potter spoke the Dark Lord's name, sibilant whispers of fear and   
horror came from the sea of eyes glowing in the darkness. The   
slithering, flapping noises grew frenzied. I was afraid that the   
creatures would fall on us, but the horrible things came no nearer. I   
drew closer to the boy and my cat and the three of us huddled together.  
  
"They don't seem to like it when I say `Voldemort…'" Potter murmured.   
  
"Well, I don't like it either…" I murmured back. "Potter! Wait! What are   
you doing?!"  
  
The boy had risen to his feet. "Voldemort!" he said.  
  
The sea of unseen nasty things whispered, flapped and hissed. There were   
soft sobs, wails and the gnashing of teeth. The Grey Woman's nasty,   
misshapen guards made sounds of terror that froze the blood in my veins.   
From the darkness, understandable whispers were heard.  
  
"Mustn't Speak The Name!"  
  
"Dark One Will Come!"  
  
"If I promise not to speak The Name again, may I ask a promise in   
return?" Potter asked.   
  
The whispering, flapping and hissing gradually died away, to be replaced   
by silence. Finally, a single voice hissed, "Ask."  
  
"The old man. And his cat. I don't want them to be hurt in any way.   
Promise. By the ancient laws the Grey Woman mentioned."  
  
"No! Our payment!"  
  
"Broken Wizard is our meat!"  
  
"Greyling promised us!  
  
"Voldemort!" Potter shouted.  
  
There was silence.   
  
"Voldemort, come!" Potter shouted again.   
  
This time he was greeted by hisses, snarls and a shower of debris. I   
shielded Mrs. Norris as best I could. Potter wasn't quite quick enough   
to dodge one missile and I heard him grunt as it smacked against his   
face. It wasn't enough to shut him up of course, stubborn brat that he   
is. He had to shout the Dark Lord's name three more times and duck three   
more showers of trash before he extracted a grudging promise from the   
whisperers. By then I was trembling violently.  
  
Potter sat down again beside Mrs. Norris and me.  
  
"There. Now, maybe all we have to worry about now is the Grey Woman," he   
said. He looked around at the debris that now surrounded us with a   
thoughtful expression on his face.  
  
*******   
  
Harry didn't really expect it to be that easy. The back of his neck   
ached as if a bludger had struck him and there was a burning sensation   
spreading from the point of impact down his arms. He forced the   
discomfort from his mind as he searched through the objects that had   
been thrown at him in hopes that there was something that could be used   
as a weapon. Unfortunately the largest piece of trash turned out to be a   
screwdriver, and a very small screwdriver at that.   
  
Wait, maybe he could use this to pick the manacle lock?   
  
Before he had a chance to try it, the Grey Woman returned. With her were   
four other not quite human females… a banshee, a harpy, a sphinx and a   
naga.   
  
"Ssssoooo, Devourer," the Naga hissed. "These are the ones who are   
denying you your rightful prey?"   
  
Harry's stomach gave a lurch as he recognized the voice as Voldemort's   
pet snake, Nagini.   
  
  
  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
  
Authors' Notes:  
  
Shadowycat: Thanks!! And Mrs. Norris thanks you too. She's a very   
important member of the group... -Ozma  
  
"Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. All the angels are in heaven,   
but few of the fools are dead." Ogden Nash. You're right, Filch is   
becoming more Gryffindorish every day! -Jelsemium  
  
Redone: Thank you!! I am also bothered when fan stories use Dudley's   
weight as evidence of his "evil" nature or even as a character flaw.   
Dudley is a character that I can sympathize with, having done some   
dieting myself.  
  
Yes, you're right, it was awful of Filch to call Dudley `a great soft   
pudding.' Filch would be the very first one to admit that he's a sharp-  
tongued, bad-tempered, mean old grouch.   
  
Filch does scold Dudley for not knowing where Harry is. The first words   
that Filch speaks to Dudley are "Where is he?" When Dudley, alarmed at   
having this unkempt 'street-person' grab his arm, asks "Who?" Filch   
yells "YOUR COUSIN! You're supposed to be looking after him!"  
  
The `pudding' insult came after Dudley reminded Petunia that Filch has   
revealed that he can't do magic. "Maybe he can't hurt us." Then Dudley   
began to look at Filch in a threatening way. In Filch's defense, the   
`pudding' remark wasn't entirely unprovoked.  
  
Yes, Dudley has character flaws, but I truly don't think that his weight   
is one of them. Neither Jelsemium nor I think that Dudley is evil. In   
the prologue Jelsemium did a wonderful job of showing Dudley's   
vulnerability and how much his weight bothers him. In the chapter where   
Dudley and Filch have their confrontation, Dudley did several things   
that showed strength of character. He tried to protect his mother from   
Mrs. Norris. (For all Dudley knew at that moment either Filch or Mrs.   
Norris could have been able to give him another pig's tail for his   
audacity.) Dudley noticed when Filch revealed a potential weakness. And   
then Dudley overcame his fear and dislike for the wizarding world to ask   
Filch civil questions. (Which Filch answered quite civilly.) Finally,   
Dudley was the one who showed concern for Harry, offered Filch   
reassurances ("Potter's stronger than he looks. Faster too,") and   
pointed Filch in the right direction.  
  
Dudley also came out ahead of Filch in the "you mean you're *normal?*"   
exchange. He said "You mean you're `not normal' because you're one of   
THEM and you can't do magic?" Filch thought that Dudley was being   
simple-minded, but Dudley understood the irony. Harry is considered   
'abnormal' in the Muggle world because he can do magic, while Filch is   
considered `abnormal' in the wizarding world because he can't do magic.   
Filch didn't understand what Dudley meant. (Someone WAS being simple-  
minded there, but it wasn't Dudley...)  
  
Dudley did get his revenge for the pudding insult. And he wasn't even   
trying. Dudley's innocent remark about Harry's cupboard and how Harry   
has been forced to do the housework all his life really rubbed Filch's   
nose in the similarities between Filch and the Dursleys. And Filch felt   
terribly ashamed. -Ozma  
  
Thanks, glad you like the story. Sorry if we offended you. No, insulting   
Dudley for his weight isn't a nice thing to do, but people do say mean   
things when they're angry. Filch got angry because Petunia and Dudley   
didn't seem concerned about Harry. Being overweight myself, I don't see   
Dudley being fat as a sign that he's bad. Frankly I worry about Dudley.   
His parents are spoiling him to the point where he might get seriously   
ill, there are any number of illnesses that obesity can bring on; heart   
problems, hardening of the arteries, diabetes. "By the way, what does   
"Dixi et animum levavi" mean? -Jelsemium  
  
Saphron: Thank you!! As was revealed this chapter, Harry doesn't have   
his wand. -Ozma  
  
Thanks for the kind words. Nope, Harry doesn't have his wand on him.   
Filch finds that out, as well as a few other things this time.  
Of course Filch gets involved with the stubborn ones. Birds of a   
feather, don't'cha know? -Jelsemium  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! You and I know that Harry wouldn't run, but   
Filch still entertains fond, foolish notions that children ought to do   
what they're told. -Ozma  
  
Harry is always surprised when people are nice to him, poor kid.  
I think that Dudley has the potential to be a good person, mostly what   
he needs is some discipline. (And I don't mean punishment, either.) Yep,   
them Gryffindors can be a royal pain if you want them to run away.   
-Jelsemium  
  
Rabbit-and-Jinx: Thank you!! The disclaimers are Jelsemium's, I love   
'em! Yes, Harry was attempting to `unbind' the Binding with wandless   
magic. He didn't realize what he was doing, he was just trying to get   
free.  
  
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! A new chapter of "Balance!!" Is it almost ready????   
-Ozma  
  
Thanks for saying what you liked! Glad that the pacing worked. Yes,   
Harry is using magic, but not consciously. He feels the pull, so he's   
pulling back. The decree against underage magic is pretty far from his   
mind right now. (Besides, self-defense is probably a good excuse for   
this.) Filch's strategy is Ozma's doing and I thought it was pretty   
clever too.  
  
*Cough* you've also left the Marauders in a state of permanent detention   
with singing bubbles to torture them. Hope that gets updated soon!   
-Jelsemium  
  
AET: Thank you!! The familial protective spells haven't actually been   
broken, just 'interrupted.'   
  
Snape vs Petunia, yes that would be a battle! (Rabbit-and-Jinx's   
wonderful "Yet Another Snape Meets the Dursleys Story" has some   
excellent Severus vs Petunia. Highly recommended!) -Ozma  
  
Yep, our heroes have to keep going from one disaster to another. ("They   
were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Naturally, they became   
heroes." -Princess Leia)  
  
Dumbledore may notice that something's gone wrong with the spells.   
However, they weren't actually broken, they just faded as the distance   
between the Dursleys and Harry widened. -Jelsemium  
  
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! `Hissy faced upstart' is all Jelsemium's,   
she's got such a way with words! Yes, neither Snape nor Petunia would   
appreciate the comparison. Filch will just keep that observation to   
himself. -Ozma  
  
Thanks for quoting the lines that make you laugh! I love stories where   
Snape meets the Dursleys. Rabbit and Jinx have an excellent one out   
right now.   
  
No, Harry couldn't have left Filch behind. Nor could Filch just walk   
away when he had the feeling that Harry was in trouble. That's why these   
guys are heroes. (And why we have more than one chapter in this story.   
Be pretty short if it had been: "Oh, it's HIM. Come, my sweet, lets have   
another gillywater.") -Jelsemium  
  
Andrea13: Thank you for both chapter reviews!! Filch *hoped* that Harry   
would run. But Snape could have told Filch that Harry wouldn't.   
(Snape: Idiot! Potter wouldn't even abandon ME under circumstances like   
that!) -Ozma  
  
Thanks for the kind words. Stalling? You call that stalling? You have no   
idea how long I can drag a story out.;-) Yep, heroes can be so   
predictable sometimes. Filch is used to Harry running away from HIM.   
He'll know better than to expect Harry to run away from a mere monster   
next time. -Jelsemium  
  
Alla: Thank you!! Jelsemium has some great lines!! Reading her parts of   
the story always cracked me up. -Ozma  
  
Thanks for saying which lines you liked. ("And the vultures have a   
hunch. That not everyone invited will be coming back from lunch!" -Zazu,   
Lion King on Broadway.) -Jelsemium  
  
A.Lee: Thank you!! Yes, the Greyling is quite bound by laws. She   
considers herself a very law-abiding creature, though searching for   
loopholes and twisting the laws to her advantage are her specialties.   
-Ozma  
  
Thanks for the compliments. Yes, the Grey Stalker is part lawyer. I got   
that from reading so many folktales where you have to be very careful   
how you phrase your request and listen very carefully to how the non-  
humans talk. The fey folk don't lie, but they can mislead you if you   
aren't wary. -Jelsemium  
  
Ice Lupus: Yes, I got that "chapter doesn't exist" message for a while   
too after chapter three was uploaded. (Once FF.Net even told me that   
"user does not exist" when I tried to look at my own author page. That   
was a little scary...) Ozma  
  
I think that happens if you try to look before ff.net has a chance to   
update its files. I've occasionally been told that I do not exist. (I   
mean, I've always suspected it, but how would they know?) -Jelsemium 


	6. The Trial of Harry Potter

Squib Summer  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
by Ozma and Jelsemium  
a sequel to Squib Caretaker  
Chapter Five: The Trial of Harry Potter  
  
All recognizable characters copyrighted by J.K. Rowling.  
The less recognizable ones might be under your bed.   
I'd be careful next time I vacuumed if I were you.  
  
  
  
  
"You see, my colleagues, how I have been denied my rightful prey?" the   
Grey Woman exclaimed dramatically. "The child's guardian clearly said   
that anyone who wished could take the child. This broken wizard claims   
that the family sent him as their champion. I claim that, as an   
abandoned child, Harry Potter is my rightful prey. This… thing… would   
deny me. He would break our ancient law and deny all of us our   
livelihood."   
  
"If it's a challenge to the law, then it's a test they need to be   
taking," the Banshee hissed like speaking in less than an ear splitting   
scream was difficult.   
  
The gaunt faced woman swooped around the hall, black hair trailing   
behind her. Her body seemed solid enough around the shoulders, but from   
the waist down it faded until her legs were indistinguishable from her   
hair. She emitted a faint, greenish glow that illuminated the crowd   
below her.   
  
Harry's stomach did a slow tuck and roll as he caught glimpses of the   
things that surrounded them. He swallowed and reminded himself that   
hysterics would only get them killed, or worse.   
  
"Yesssss…" Nagini agreed. "We'll set them tests, then." The snake woman   
looked around with a smirk. "So, Devourer, who should set the first   
test?"  
  
The Grey Woman frowned. "The woman of the sidhe made the suggestion. It   
is her right to go first."  
  
The Banshee grimaced. "Very well, the man came to set the boy free. The   
first test should be easy. The boy must set the man free."  
  
Harry had been thinking about trying to pick the lock with the rusty old   
screwdriver in his hand. Now was his chance. He took a deep breath. "If   
you will allow me, sir," he said politely, as if merely opening a door   
that Filch could have opened for himself. He sat on the floor and pulled   
the manacle onto his lap. He focused his attention on the task at hand,   
desperately trying to block out the whispering of the audience and the   
obscene comments by the Harpy, much of which he only vaguely   
comprehended anyway.  
  
The lock was stubborn. Each time Harry thought he'd had it open, it   
somehow managed to relock itself. Harry scowled as he realized it would   
take more than a pick to open this. He needed some magic. "Finite   
Incantatem," he snarled under his breath as he worked.  
  
The lock clicked and the manacle fell to the ground, freed both from   
Filch's arm and from the ring that had held it to the floor. Harry's   
stomach gave a sudden lurch and he felt so nauseated that if he'd had   
any food in his stomach, it would surely have come up. He was also glad   
he'd been sitting down. He took a deep breath and looked up at the   
Banshee. "Done," he managed. He wasn't sure how, but this was no time to   
look gift blessings in the mouth.  
  
"So it is," the Banshee agreed. She settled down in a corner,   
illuminating for a moment the creatures that had been sitting there. Not   
for very long, though. The things moved away quickly, apparently not   
able to tolerate even the faint light that emanated from the fairy   
woman.   
  
"Not so fast," snarled the Grey Woman. She turned to the shadows.   
"Rebind the man… and do something about that dreadful beast!" she added   
in a shriek as Mrs. Norris darted over and took a swipe at her already   
bleeding ankles.  
  
The Grey Woman kicked at Mrs. Norris, which any student of Hogwarts   
would have told her was a bad idea. Mrs. Norris dodged handily, causing   
the Grey Woman to over balance and almost fall to the ground. The   
Devourer of Children staggered for a few steps, then glared as she   
realized that nobody from the crowd was coming forward to bind anybody.   
  
"What's the matter with you!?" she howled.  
  
There were a lot of mutterings from the crowd about not interfering with   
the judges and how they were there as witnesses rather than   
participants. Apparently, none of the monsters wanted to admit they'd   
been coerced by a child into staying away from the caretaker and his   
cat. Harry was just as happy they weren't inclined to mention this fact.  
  
*******   
  
"My turn now…" the Harpy said, flaring her wings. She strode forward   
into the light that surrounded Potter, Mrs. Norris and me.  
  
"And your turn as well, Broken Wizard," she said. "Your task is to   
answer three of my questions, truthfully."  
  
"Ask," I said, gruffly, trying not to show how frightened I was. It was   
all too easy to imagine her sharp talons tearing us to pieces and her   
brassy wings splattered red with our blood.   
  
"You caught my eye in the Leaky Cauldron this morning," the Harpy said,   
almost coyly. "I think you knew that the boy was in danger. Tell me,   
what did you sense?"  
  
The Grey Woman and the other Judges all looked at me. I broke into a   
cold sweat, my heart beating like an ensnared rabbit's. Did these   
creatures know about the perceptive abilities of Squibs? If they did,   
then I didn't dare lie. But I didn't dare describe the powerful spell   
that protected Potter, either.  
  
"I felt the stirrings of an ancient magic," I said, trying to weave a   
plausible description out of strands of half-truths. "Wild magic. Very   
strong."  
  
Looking at the Grey Woman, I shuddered. Please, Merlin, let her think   
that I was describing her, as she'd stalked Potter. Please, let her be   
that arrogant…The Grey Woman grinned toothily, as I gave her what she   
considered to be her proper due. The Naga eyed me, speculatively.  
  
"Yesss, Squibsss have always had their usess…" the snake-woman remarked.   
"Either whole, or in piecesss." Her eyes glittered.   
  
The Harpy was already asking her next question. "The Devourer's Binding   
Spell… were you able to feel it weakening, before you freed the boy?"  
  
At the moment all I could feel was myself being backed into a corner. It   
was a simple `yes' or 'no' question, with no room to maneuver. And I   
didn't dare lie.  
  
"Yes," I said, very softly.   
  
The intent expression on the Naga's face when she looked at me made my   
skin crawl.  
  
"The boy was able to free you without the use of a wand," the Harpy   
said, as I turned away from the Naga. "All of us saw it. Use your senses   
now and tell me, Broken Wizard. Does the boy have enough strength   
remaining to duplicate that impressive feat?"  
  
I looked at Potter. The poor boy's exhaustion was palpable. Announcing   
this fact did not seem like a very wise idea. I hesitated.  
  
"A silent reply, yet so eloquent!" the Harpy said. "Thank you."  
  
I frowned at her. "But, Madam, I haven't answered you yet! I don't know   
what to say! In all honesty, predicting what this boy does or doesn't   
have the strength to do is always a risky business… Potter NEVER does   
quite what anyone expects of him."  
  
The Harpy glared at me, but she couldn't deny that I'd spoken the truth.  
  
"No more questions," the Sphinx reminded the glowering Harpy. "He has   
successfully completed the second task."  
  
*******  
  
The Grey Woman snarled at the judges. "Which one of you is ready to set   
the third task?" she demanded.   
  
The phrase caused Harry to feel sick. It reminded him horribly of the   
Third Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and Cedric Diggory's death. For   
the first time he appreciated what other people felt when he said   
Voldemort's name aloud.  
  
His thoughts were diverted when he noticed some emotion flickering   
across the Sphinx's face. Something that looked very much like… sorrow?   
  
Could he be reading her emotions correctly? If so, then what could have   
upset her? She didn't have an evil memory of the Third Task, did she?   
Nagini glared at the Sphinx. The Sphinx, her face now apparently under   
strict control, merely smiled enigmatically. "By all means, my reptilian   
sister, take your turn."  
  
Nagini chuckled and slithered closer. "How about an old classic?" she   
said. "I'll give you three chances to guess my name," she smirked. "One   
guess for each of you." She reached out as if to touch Harry's face.  
  
Mrs. Norris took exception. She spat and swiped at the snake woman.   
Nagini recoiled, then grinned. "Wrong," she said. She looked at Harry.   
"Your turn, boy."  
  
Harry hesitated. He didn't want to reveal that he knew the name of   
Voldemort's servant, but he couldn't think of anyway around it. To not   
answer would be death. "Nagini," he said at last.   
  
Nagini let out a hiss to rival the Hogwarts Express. "Foul child! You   
cheat!"  
  
"And yet he fulfilled your challenge," the Sphinx said, striding   
forward.   
  
Now that the Maze from the Tri-Wizard Tournament had been brought to   
Harry's mind, he thought that the Sphinx sounded familiar. He could be   
fooling himself, he realized, but he thought that this was the same   
Sphinx. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, however. He   
hoped that whatever she had in mind would be to their advantage.  
  
"In order to make sure this court gives the correct judgment, Devourer,   
I need to know what it was that the boy's guardian said that gave him   
into your power." The Sphinx bared her teeth at Harry. "Boy, what did   
she say?"  
  
Harry blinked rapidly, trying to remember what his Aunt Petunia had   
said. "She said that anybody was welcome to take me, if they thought   
they could make me mind my manners."  
  
The Grey Woman smirked. "She said, and I quote: 'I can't do a thing with   
this brat. You're welcome to take him, see if you can do a better job of   
making him behave.'"  
  
The Sphinx smiled. "And have you been able to make the boy behave?" she   
asked the Grey Woman.  
  
*******  
  
I couldn't help the wry laugh that escaped me.   
  
"Her?!" I snorted, looking at the Grey Woman. "Of course she hasn't!   
Better people have tried. And failed, miserably, I might add."  
  
The Sphinx turned her almond eyes on me then, her expression both grave   
and amused.  
  
"Have you accomplished this feat?" she asked me.  
  
It was Potter who answered the Sphinx.   
  
"Yes, he has. It's part of his job, isn't it? He always makes me wipe my   
feet when I come in to the Castle, covered with mud. He walks the   
corridors most of the night to make sure that all of us stay in our   
beds. And just now, he told me off for speaking disrespectfully about   
one of my Professors."  
  
The expression on the Sphinx's face was stern as she turned to the Grey   
Devourer.  
  
"All four tasks have been successfully accomplished," the Sphinx said.   
"And, furthermore, this Wizard has met the challenge put forth by the   
boy's guardian. Greyling, my judgment is that your claim on the boy is   
non-existent."  
  
"I agree," the Harpy said, almost sweetly.  
  
"As do I," The Banshee rasped.  
  
"It is time now to consider *other* claims on both the boy and the   
Squib," hissed Nagini.  
  
The Grey Woman wasn't about to give up her prey. "You may take the   
Broken Wizard for all I care. And his wretched cat, too! But the boy is   
MINE!"  
  
"NO!" Nagini shrieked. "You had your chance, now it's my turn. I claim   
these humans for my master, Voldemort!"   
  
  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
  
  
  
Authors' Notes:  
  
Alla: Thank you!! Congratulations on your graduation from law school!   
-Ozma  
  
Yep, the Grey Stalker probably would have gotten top marks in law   
school. (Slytherin, or maybe Ravenclaw...) -Jelsemium  
  
aurendel: Thank you!! "The Devil and Dan'l Webster' is one of my   
favorite stories! -Ozma  
  
There may be something like the Predator's Court in folklore. I love   
folklore and I was trying for something that felt like it was from   
folklore. -Jelsemium  
  
Spark-Chick: Thank you!! Four hours of driving? You have my sympathy...   
I hate to drive. The thingies all say "Hi!" -Ozma  
  
Thanks, I liked the thingies, too. No fun in having the hero win out   
against incredible odds if there aren't any witnesses to spread the word   
in the right quarters. ("You don't want to mess with that Potter kid!")  
-Jelsemium  
  
Larania: Thank you!! The Grey Stalker would say that there are far too   
many abandoned magical children in the world, and that she's providing a   
valuable service. (If she could be content with Tom's Shepherd's Pie,   
she wouldn't be having such troubles...) -Ozma  
  
Yes, the Grey Stalker needs to eat. However, there are probably other   
things she could hunt besides children in order to get magic to eat. But   
what's the fun of stalking magic mirrors or somebody's old Shooting   
Star? -Jelsemium  
  
Shadowycat: Thank you!! Snape will definitely appreciate the apology   
from Filch, since the Potions Master knew that he was right all along.   
What Snape really wants is for Filch to tell Dumbledore that allowing   
Harry to keep the Invisibility Cloak is both wrong and unfair. (Not that   
Snape is really expecting Dumbledore to change his mind about the Cloak,   
but he wants all the support he can get.) Yes, lesser evils flee before   
Voldemort, like goblins running from a Balrog!   
  
Nagini always does her best to look out for her Master's interests.   
-Ozma  
  
I'd like to see Snape apologize to a few people. Neville, for one. Also,   
James Potter risked a lot to save Snape's life, and Snape 'repaid' him   
by accusing him of trying to kill him and chickening out at the last   
minute. Dumbledore took him in when no one else would trust a former   
Death Eater, but Snape never displays any gratitude. Someday, I hope   
that Snape will learn to be grateful to the people who are kind to him.  
  
Nope, Nagini won't be unbiased, ever. -Jelsemium  
  
minnowgirl: Thank you!! Filch would say that he's just doing what has to   
be done because there's no one else to do it. He's not a bit reckless.   
Really, he's not! -Ozma  
  
Thanks! Yes, I loved how Harry was pleased to be compared to Sirius.   
(That's Ozma's doing!) Also loved how Filch has turned this whole legal   
business to his advantage. (Also Ozma's doing.) -Jelsemium  
  
Ice Lupus: Thank you!! Where would Voldemort fit into something like a   
Predators' Court? Interesting question. He'd probably consider himself   
above the law, even ancient laws. Tommy-boy thinks he's a law unto   
himself.  
  
The little flapping horrors don't want to touch Harry because, legends   
aside, the boy is a powerful wizard while they're basically scavengers   
and bottom-feeders. Also Harry has been marked by the Dark Lord and   
Voldemort is *way* out of those little guys' league. -Ozma  
  
There's no real connection between Nagini and the Greyling. They do know   
each other, slightly, because they run in the same circles. The Greyling   
sensed the other predators earlier so when she wanted judges she went to   
collect them, figuring that they would rule in her favor. -Jelsemium  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Yes, that wonderful paragraph (it's   
Jelsemium's) made me want to hug Harry too, poor sweet baby!   
  
Snape would never admit that he's hurt when he's not believed, but that   
bit at the end of Prisoner of Azkaban (when Snape was RIGHT about Harry,   
Ron and Hermione having been up to something and the poor man was   
hysterical and going over the edge and Fudge thought he was cracking up)   
made me feel sorry for him. Snape needs to be believed, vindicated and   
apologized to about *something* in order to restore the Great Cosmic   
Balance. Thanks for the kind comments on the author's note!   
  
Jelsemium and I both like Nagini as a character too! -Ozma  
  
Thanks, I'm glad that you liked the paragraph where Harry tells Argus   
that he doesn't want people to know how he's treated. A lot of abused   
children are ashamed of how they're treated, like it's their own fault.  
  
I rather like Nagini as a villain. I've liked Nagas ever since I ran   
across those snake people in Hindu mythology (I've always liked snakes)   
and they're especially fun in the Potterverse because of Harry's talent   
for talking to snakes. (Not that Nagas can't talk human talk.)   
-Jelsemium  
  
The Amazing Maurice: Thank you!! I'm not sure that being able to talk to   
snakes invariably means that the Parselmouth can control the snake.   
Harry probably still has to rely on his own persuasive abilities and   
good manners. I think Nagini is firmly loyal to Voldemort. -Ozma  
  
I don't think Harry could control a Naga any more than he can control a   
person just by talking to him. He might have been able to control the   
basilisk if he'd met it alone since it was used to being ordered around.   
Anyway, I threw in Nagini because I wanted to use Harry's parseltongue   
for something. -Jelsemium  
  
emma: Thank you!! -Ozma   
  
Thanks, I like to give readers a little hint of what's coming up.   
-Jelsemium  
  
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! The little flapping horrors wouldn't have a   
go at eating Harry unless he was injured carrion. The Banshee, Harpy,   
Sphinx and Nagini all have interests in Harry that go beyond eating him.   
Poor Harry! -Ozma  
  
Thanks for the kind words, I'm rather pleased with the Court of   
Predators too. I like the idea that the intelligent monsters out there   
have some sort of culture.  
  
I guess most of the predators there figured that Harry wouldn't be very   
edible. He's bound to disagree with their digestions.  
  
I loved it when Harry quoted Filch's comment back at him. (Ozma's doing,   
by the way.) -Jelsemium  
  
A. Lee: Thank you!! You're right, the Council of Predators isn't   
concerned with being fair. But a group of Predators hardly ever decides   
in favor of the "Prey," so the Grey Woman feels like she has a good   
chance of winning her case. She wants to consume Harry's magic, and she   
doesn't much care what happens to what's left of the boy's body when   
she's done. The other predators can have it for all she cares. Good   
question about the Sphinx! -Ozma  
  
No, you wouldn't think that a Predator's Court would be very fair-  
minded, would you?  
  
Oh, Nagini doesn't want Harry dead, I believe that Voldemort wants him   
alive. -Jelsemium 


	7. Disorder in the Court

Squib Summer  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
by Ozma and Jelsemium  
a sequel to Squib Caretaker  
Chapter Six: Disorder in the Court  
  
All recognizable characters copyrighted by J.K. Rowling.  
The less recognizable ones might be under your bed.  
I hope you're not leaving dirty dishes under there. It only encourages   
them.  
  
  
  
The Grey Woman wrestled with Nagini, both physically and verbally, while   
the audience of foul flapping horrors shrieked and moaned. The Harpy   
preened her wings and looked amused while the Banshee drifted nearby and   
looked disdainful.  
  
"He can have the boy after I'm finished with him!" the Grey Woman was   
wailing. "The boy's magic is mine! I will devour his essence and your   
upstart dark lord can have what remains!"  
  
The insult to her Master made the snake-woman hiss in outrage.  
  
"Mr. Filch..." Potter murmured. "Now would be a very good time to run."  
  
I agreed. "Which way? I was unconscious when she brought us down here."  
  
"Follow me," the boy whispered. Then he bolted into the darkness with   
Mrs. Norris at his side. I ran after them, still holding the chain that   
Potter had freed me from. It was heavy but it was the only weapon I had.  
  
"They're esscaping!! Grab the boy or face Voldemort's wrath!" Nagini   
shrieked at the Grey Woman's misshapen guards.  
  
The flapping horrors were more afraid of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named than   
they were of breaking their word to Potter. They swarmed after us out of   
the darkness from all sides. I whirled the heavy chain around, smashing   
it against any creature that came too close.  
  
Over their squeals of pain and their hisses of rage, I could hear Nagini   
and the Grey Woman still fighting. Flailing the chain about, I stumbled   
after Potter and my cat.  
  
*******  
  
Harry tripped over something and barked his shin... unless the obstacle   
had bitten him. Filch hauled him to his feet and pushed him in front.   
They came to an arched doorway.  
  
Mrs. Norris raced through the arch. Harry followed. Filch brought up the   
rear. Behind Filch, they all heard the Grey Woman's guards hissing and   
flapping in pursuit.  
  
The tunnel was dark and slanted upwards. Pulling Filch along, Harry ran   
uphill. He nearly fell over Mrs. Norris, who'd waited for them at the   
foot of a flight of stone steps.  
  
"There's a trapdoor at the top!" Harry gasped. "It's the way out... leads   
into that building she brought me to!"  
  
"Go, Gryffindor!" Filch shouted at him.  
  
Harry staggered up the stairs. (It wasn't until much, much later that he   
realized Filch had been insulting him. He didn't have time right then to   
think about it.)   
  
At the foot of the steps, he heard Filch taking on all comers, using the   
chain in order to buy him time. Harry slammed hard against the trap   
door. It refused to budge! He hadn't seen the Grey Woman lock it... had   
she sealed it with a spell?  
  
Desperate, knowing that he needed to use magic, wand or no, Harry cried   
out "ALOHAMORA!"   
  
As before, his stomach gave a terrible lurch. He felt even more ill than   
before, dizzy and lightheaded. Harry knew that collapsing was a luxury   
that he couldn't afford. His push against the trapdoor was a feeble   
thing, but this time it moved upwards!  
  
Harry could hear Mrs. Norris screeching. He imagined her wreaking havoc   
among Filch's attackers.  
  
"Mr. Filch! Come on!" Harry gasped, shoving the trap door open.   
  
Below him on the stairs, he heard the Caretaker gasp, "...right behind   
you..."   
  
Accompanied by a mass of creatures that scratched, clawed and bit, Harry   
pulled himself through the opening. He emerged into the basement room   
crowded with broken crates, battered and discarded furniture, scraps of   
rags, bits of old bone and moldering newspapers.  
  
Using fists and elbows, Harry somehow managed to reach the wall. Claws   
caught at his hand-me-downs and shredded them. For once, Harry was   
grateful for Dudley's size. If any of those claws had sunk into his   
skin... He pushed that thought aside and began to feel frantically for the   
light switch. The building was in shabby condition, but there was still   
something stored here. Harry prayed that the electricity was still on   
and that whoever had designed this building had put the switch right...   
there!   
  
Harry flicked the toggle and suddenly the room was flooded with light.   
The tangle of fighters that had been Mr. Filch, Mrs. Norris and the   
audience of monsters quickly sorted itself into Mr. Filch and Mrs.   
Norris as the monsters fled back through the trap door, down into the   
darkness.  
  
Then, seemingly unaffected by the stampede of light-fearing small   
horrors who were all rushing in the opposite direction, the Banshee and   
the Sphinx emerged from the trapdoor.  
  
The Banshee faded from view almost immediately, apparently not able to   
take strong light any more than the flapping horrors could. The Sphinx   
shrugged, then vanished from sight as well.  
  
'If there's a God, then she's gone for help,' Harry thought. He felt   
very weak and his vision was greying out. He struggled to stay on his   
feet. Nagini and the Grey Woman were still unaccounted for. It would be   
too optimistic to hope that the pair of them had finished each other   
off.  
  
*******  
  
"Are you... all right... Mr. Filch?"  
  
Poor Potter. He was swaying on his feet.  
  
"I'll do," I told him, gruffly. "But you look like the eighth day of a   
week-long detention!"  
  
It wasn't an exaggeration. The boy was deathly pale and covered with   
bites and scratches. He'd managed to keep his glasses somehow, but his   
already shabby clothes were now extremely dirty and badly torn.   
  
I'd dragged a box over to the broken basement window, given Potter a   
boost up, handed Mrs. Norris up to him and then pulled myself up. Mrs.   
Norris, Potter and I were back in the dirty Muggle alley, near the   
river. The daylight was beginning to fade. Our imprisonment had lasted   
for many hours.  
  
"We're not safe yet," I said. "Hurry, boy. I've got to get you away from   
here... and back home somehow."  
  
Potter really did not look well. The boy was shivering and sweaty. His   
baggy clothes were damp with perspiration and blood and his green eyes   
were glassy. Mrs. Norris was crooning at him in concern.  
  
"What is it, my sweet?" I asked her absently, too worried about Potter   
to think about anything else.  
  
"Your cat has senses that you lack, Broken Wizard. She is trying to tell   
you that the Grey Devourer's bite is poisonous," remarked a voice behind   
us.  
  
Supporting Potter, I turned to see the Harpy perched on a very large   
dustbin nearby.  
  
Mrs. Norris hissed at her.   
  
"Truly, I have no wish to see Harry Potter fall into the Evil One's   
hands!" the Harpy answered my cat. "Wizards and creatures of the Light   
are not the only beings who take an interest in this boy."   
  
"It would be wise to bring him to a Healer," the bird-woman continued,   
turning to me and speaking matter-of-factly. "And quickly, too. The Grey   
Devourer and the Naga are coming. I fully intend to be somewhere else   
when they arrive. I suggest that the three of you do the same."  
  
"You... call... Kn-Knight Bus... Mr. Filch..." Potter murmured.  
  
"You'll have to do it, Potter," I apologized, bitterly. "I can't! No   
wand means no wand-hand. I needed the Headmaster to summon the Bus for   
me when I left Hogwarts, yesterday. I have a reservation for them to   
pick me up when my errands are finished."  
  
"But I don't know if I can without a wand!" The poor boy looked as if he   
could barely keep himself upright. His body was shaking. But, no sooner   
had he raised a trembling hand then the Knight Bus appeared with a BANG.  
  
"It worked," Potter said with equal amounts of relief and disbelief. I   
couldn't blame him. After the kind of day we'd been having, any kind of   
good luck seemed more like a trap than a change of fortune.  
  
Then the Sphinx stepped out of the bus.   
  
I sighed, it was a trap. I pulled Potter to a halt.  
  
The Sphinx snorted at our hesitation. "Get in, if you want to live," she   
said, gesturing to the door and moving out of our way. Potter pulled me   
forward.   
  
"You okay?" Stan said nervously from the bus. He jerked his thumb over   
to the Sphinx. "She said we 'ad to come get yer. But I wasn't sure if it   
was a rescue..."  
  
Or a free meal, I added to myself.  
  
"It's okay, Stan," Potter croaked out. "She's a Gryffindor."  
  
Was that supposed to be reassuring?  
  
"Well, if you say she's all right, Neville," Stan replied.  
  
Neville? I looked at the Sphinx and was vaguely comforted to see her   
looking as baffled as I felt. It's hard to look bloodthirsty and   
bewildered at the same time.  
  
"Take us to Saint Mungo's, quickly! It's an emergency!" I gasped,   
stumbling up the steps, half carrying Potter. Mrs. Norris followed.  
  
The Sphinx nodded and moved away from the Knight Bus, much to   
everybody's relief. Behind us, I heard the sound of mighty wings as the   
Harpy took flight.  
  
*******  
  
Stan Shunpike, the young, pimply conductor of the Knight Bus was still   
the earnest and conscientious Hufflepuff that I remembered. He hovered   
protectively over Harry, and then helped Mrs. Norris and me get the ill   
boy into Saint Mungo's as swiftly as possible.   
  
(Shunpike's help was greatly appreciated, though I never did understand   
why he insisted on referring to Potter as "Neville.")  
  
Potter was promptly whisked away by a motherly-looking medi-witch. Mrs.   
Norris and I took guard positions on a chair just outside the examining   
room where Potter had been taken. I wasn't about to let him out of my   
sight. A young witch handed me a stack of forms, large enough to impress   
even me.  
  
"Send an owl to Albus Dumbledore!" I said, giving the forms a quick   
glance. "He'll be able to answer the questions that I can't. He'll be   
able to contact the boy's family as well!"  
  
"I'm here, Argus," Dumbledore's calm voice had never been more welcome.   
He took the forms from my hand. "I've already sent for the Dursleys. In   
the meantime, I'll take full responsibility."  
  
"Thank you, sir" I said, gratefully. "How did you know what was going   
on?"  
  
"Hypatia owled me," Dumbledore said, as he began filling out forms. The   
look on my face must have prompted him to continue. "Well, technically,   
she sent a falcon, but there's no need to split hairs. She said she was   
going to commandeer the Knight Bus, but that I would probably be needed   
to handle the aftermath."  
  
"Hypatia?" I asked him, confused. "Who's...?"  
  
"You can't possibly have missed her," the Headmaster said, wryly. "She's   
quite unmistakable. Head of a woman, body of a lion..."  
  
"The SPHINX?" I squeaked. "Sir...? You're on a first-name basis with THE   
SPHINX?"  
  
He nodded absently, gazing down at a question on the form. "Why, yes,   
Hypatia's been calling me `Albus' for ages now. She and I share a   
fondness for tenpin bowling and chamber music. And she knows some truly   
delightful riddles..."  
  
"You answer her riddles? But, sir, you mustn't! Wouldn't she EAT you   
if...?"  
  
"Goodness, no. It would ruin a most rewarding friendship."  
  
I shuddered. "Headmaster," I said, "You're just as bad as Hagrid!"  
  
"Thank you, Argus." Dumbledore looked up and smiled at me in weary   
amusement before returning to Potter's forms.  
  
*******  
  
Harry was just aware enough of his surroundings to be uncomfortable, but   
didn't have strength enough to pull himself into full wakefulness. At   
one point he thought he heard the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon sputtering   
about being dragged such an ungodly distance at such an ungodly hour,   
and Aunt Petunia sputtering about the disgraceful way they were being   
treated. The only one who seemed to react at all to Harry being   
stretched out like a slab of undercooked bacon was his cousin.  
  
"Is Potter going to die?" Harry heard Dudley ask, fearfully.  
  
"I should be so lucky," snapped his aunt.  
  
Someone responded to her in acidic tones, but Harry was losing what   
little focus he had and didn't recognize the speaker. As soon as he   
stopped fighting for consciousness, the nightmare began.   
  
He felt himself being dragged along, like a dog on a leash and he knew   
that whatever was waiting for him was going to be bad... very bad. He   
struggled, but somehow his muscles weren't working. In front of him, he   
could see the Grey Woman being pulled along between Nagini and Wormtail.   
Nagini was grinning with anticipation. The corridor ended at a rust   
streaked iron door. Harry, and obviously the Grey Woman, knew who was   
waiting on the other side.  
  
"So, Grìsionn-cràdh," Voldemort hissed. "You promised that which you   
could not deliver. Now Potter is out of my reach once more. If you had   
come to me directly, I would have had him. Dumbledore shall not allow   
such a leak in his defenses to remain unplugged. And now he will be   
twice as wary about letting the brat out of his sight."  
  
"I am sorry, My Lord!" whimpered the Grey Woman. "I hungered so... I   
needed his magic to sustain me!"  
  
The slitted nostrils flared slightly. "You will not have that worry any   
longer," he said coldly. "I have a new spell that I've been working on..."   
  
He raised his wand and the Grey Woman tried desperately to back away.   
Harry also pulled back. He was certain that he did NOT want to see this.   
When the screaming began, it was all he could do to not scream along. He   
had a terrible feeling that if he made a sound that Voldemort would hear   
him... Voldemort would have him...   
  
  
  
To Be Continued  
  
  
  
  
Author's Notes:   
  
Alla: Thanks!! Jelsemium and I don't mind if you join the Snape vs Potter discussion. Jelse and I have different views on Snape. He's my second favorite character, flaws and all. (Like you, I don't admire the way he treats his students, especially Harry and Neville, but I do like his honor, courage and complexity.)  
  
Alla -- Thanks! I like Sphinxes, too! ** Thanks for your opinion on the ongoing Snape/Potter debate. As far as I'm concerned, you are free to jump in at any time! I agree, I wish Snape would stop bullying all the students. For the record, I'm not *totally* against Snape. He just hasn't earned my respect yet. -- Jelsemium   
  
Saphron: Thank you!! Yes, the Sphinx could be described as "twinkly."   
It's a quality that she shares with a very good friend of hers. ;O)   
(The friendship-patronage between Dumbledore and the Sphinx was   
Jelsemium's idea. I thought it was delightful and made a lot of sense.)  
-Ozma  
  
Saphron -- Thanks! I think Harry really should learn to appreciate Mr. Filch. They really do have a lot in common. ** I love mythical beings of all sorts. Glad you like how the Sphinx came out. -- Jelsemium   
  
AET: Thank you!! I think that you've probably summed up how Snape himself feels about James and Harry.  
  
Poor Severus has a prickly, unpleasant personality. I think that, deep down, Snape longs to be liked, though he may not realize this about himself. He envies Harry and James for being so likeable. From Snape's point of view, both Potters achieved popularity without effort. (I also find it poignant that Snape would never believe just how little poor Harry actually CARES about being popular.) -Ozma  
  
AET-- Thanks for the review. You're comments are appreciated, even if I don't agree with them. (Hey, I like debates!)   
  
Re: Snape being a double agent: Remember that Snape is in a position to be a double agent against the 'icon of evil' because he had joined said 'icon of evil' of his own free will. (Love that phrase!) Once he let the Dark Mark get branded on him, Snape had three choices -- Stay with Voldemort, run like hell or join Dumbledore. Face it, at that point, Snape's best chance for survival was to help bring down Voldemort.   
  
As for not getting any recognition, Dumbledore testified that Snape was spying for the good guys.   
  
As for James not doing anything to earn respect -- According to Hagrid, James was Head Boy at Hogwarts, not an honor you get just through some 'small talent for Quidditch'. There's also the fact that Voldemort thought James was important enough to target. (And James' courage must have been extraordinary if Voldemort actually praised it.) James' biggest act of bravery may have been to try to live a normal life and start a family, even in the horrible dark times that he was living in.   
  
At the beginning of Book One, Harry *hadn't* done anything to really deserve his fame. On the other hand, he also hadn't done anything to deserve the attacks Snape leveled at him from the moment he set foot in Hogwarts. However, by the end of the fourth book, I'd say Harry has done a LOT of deeds worthy of respect. (Even leaving out the ones that had him stealing from Snape's private stores.)  
  
Personally, I think the root of the James/Severus issue is Lily. -- Jelsemium   
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Argus sincerely hopes that the Harpy wasn't   
flirting with him. (His hopes are in vain. She was.) I agree that   
Jelsemium has really captured a nice mythic feel with the Council of   
Predators and the Tasks. -Ozma  
  
Ariana Deratle: I wanted to have Harry speaking Parseltongue, but there wasn't any place for it in the story. ** I've been wanting to use the skills that Harry learned from the Weasley twins in a story somewhere.** Glad the wandless magic felt right. There is another reason Harry almost got sick here, aside from just using up energy at an alarming rate. I'm not sure if we made it clear that the Grey Stalker has poisoned him. ** I love how Ozma wrote the interaction between the Harpy and Argus. Maybe Minerva has competition! ** Originally, I was going to have three tasks. However, I thought of a fourth judge and I didn't want to get rid of any of the three that I already had. So, I went with a non-traditional four tasks. (Five, if you count Petunia's words as a 'task.') -Jelsemium  
  
Shadowycat: Thank you!! Well, Nagini managed to make off with a   
consolation prize for her master. Filch does not enjoy such intimidating   
company. Give him a Castleful of muddy-footed brats any day. You weren't   
imagining things... the Sphinx is a good guy! -Ozma  
  
Shadowycat: This is the chapter that answers your questions about what Nagini is allowed to do. ** No you aren't imagining things. The Greyling picked the WRONG predators to judge her trial. -Jelsemium  
  
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! -Ozma  
  
Persephone Kore: One hopes that something nasty will eventually befall Nagini. That's half the fun of having a really good villain; seeing his or her downfall. ** Thanks, I liked the Sphinx from the fourth book and   
wondered why she was put in the maze. You can see my version of why they   
would trust her with the students here. -Jelsemium  
  
Miriam: Thank you!! It's fun writing with Jelsemium. We've known each   
other for a long time. -Ozma  
  
Miriam: Thanks for the review. Glad you like our style! -Jelsemium  
  
Andrea13: Thank you!! Poor Harry... he's such a sweet kid. Jelsemium's   
paragraph where Harry said he deserved to be treated badly just melted   
my heart too. Even grumpy old Filch was distressed to hear the boy talk   
that way. -Ozma  
  
Andrea13: Thanks for the review! Yes, poor Harry, just can't be given a break, can he? He sure needs a hug. (You think customs would notice if I tried to smuggle a fifteen year old wizard into the States? Oh, wait, maybe I wrap him up in his father's cloak...) ** Nagini is just a sore loser. Harry won, so she's going to try to claim that he cheated.   
-Jelsemium  
  
A. Lee: Thank you!! Yes, each Predator definitely had ideas of her own.  
-Ozma  
  
A. Lee: The Greyling made a big mistake when she assumed that the other   
predators would automatically side with her. And at least two of them   
had hidden agendas that didn't help her case at all. -Jelsemium 


	8. Rights, Wrongs and a Promise Kept

Squib Summer  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
by Ozma and Jelsemium  
a sequel to Squib Caretaker  
Chapter Seven: Rights, Wrongs and a Promise Kept  
  
All recognizable characters copyrighted by J.K. Rowling.  
The less recognizable ones might be under your bed.   
Use a flashlight next time you look, they're having a hard time reading   
the story.  
  
  
  
The Headmaster and I watched helplessly as Harry Potter struggled in the   
grip of a nightmare. He thrashed and twisted on the hospital bed as if   
trying to escape. Dumbledore moved to his side and tried to still him.  
  
"Easy, Harry, lie still. It's over now. You're safe now," Dumbledore's   
litany was falling on deaf ears.   
  
Potter arched his back and pushed desperately away from Dumbledore's   
grasp, all the while maintaining an eerie silence.  
  
The reason for the silence soon became apparent. Potter had his lower   
lip between his teeth and was biting down so hard that the blood flowed   
freely.   
  
"Harry, wake up! Ennervate!"  
  
The last finally worked. Potter took a shuddering gasp and opened his   
eyes. Dumbledore laid his hand on Potter's shoulder, but the boy jerked   
away and curled into a ball.   
  
"'msorrysorrysorryIllbequiet," mumbled Potter.  
  
"Harry, it's me," the Headmaster said quietly. "You're in St. Mungo's   
Hospital. You're safe. Relax. It's over." But he did not offer to touch   
the boy until Potter rolled over on his back and actually focused on   
him.  
  
"Professor?" he managed weakly. "Was I screaming then? Did I wake   
everybody up?" He seemed more worried about having disturbed people than   
his lacerated lip.  
  
"No, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly. "In fact, you seem to have injured   
yourself in your attempts to not scream." Slowly, as if treating a   
wounded animal, Dumbledore lifted his handkerchief to Potter's face and   
dabbed at the blood.  
  
"Argus, if you would be so kind as to summon the nurse?"  
  
Quickly, I moved to obey.  
  
The nurse bustled in and exclaimed over the boy's bleeding lip. She gave   
us a reproachful look as she whipped out her medi-wand and pulled a   
bottle of cleansing potion from somewhere.   
  
"Here, child, let me have a look. Goodness, what happened?" she added   
with another dark look at the Headmaster and me.  
  
"Bad dream," Potter whispered.  
  
"I can't blame you, you've had a nasty day." After cleaning the boy up   
and shooting one last suspicious look at us the nurse bustled out again.   
  
I snorted.   
  
"Hufflepuffs can get very protective of their charges," Dumbledore said,   
mildly.  
  
"Harry," he added, "do you feel up to telling us more about the creature   
that attacked you? Anything that would help us find her?"  
  
"She's dead," Potter said flatly. He swallowed and touched his lower lip   
as if just realizing he'd been injured. "Voldemort... was mad because I..."   
he swallowed again.  
  
Dumbledore was silent for several minutes. "I see. Well, then, there is   
no reason to disturb your rest any longer."  
  
Potter continued as if the Headmaster hadn't spoken. "He was unraveling   
her... she didn't look so human once her skin was removed, the bones were   
all wrong..." His eyes were wide and had started losing their focus.  
  
"Harry, would you like a potion for dreamless sleep?" Dumbledore asked.   
He rested his hand lightly on Potter's shoulder.  
  
Potter didn't seem to hear him. "She was screaming so loud... I thought if   
I screamed that Voldemort would hear me, but maybe he wouldn't have over   
her... Even when she began to fall apart, she kept screaming... Then... then   
he thanked her. Voldemort thanked the Grey Woman. Said he'd been wanting   
to try that spell. Said he modified an old curse especially..." Potter   
drew his legs up and rested his forehead against his knees. "Especially   
for... For... mmm...." His voice trailed off and his breathing grew raspy.  
  
I hurried out to fetch the nurse back again.  
  
*******  
  
Shortly afterwards, the medi-wizard on duty realized that I hadn't been   
looked at yet. He bustled me off to have my wounds attended to. His was   
a face that I recalled from his days at Hogwarts. Yet another   
Hufflepuff. After checking me over, he frowned a bit and insisted that I   
stay overnight `just in case.' Since he had no objection to Mrs. Norris   
remaining with me, I submitted quietly.  
  
Cleaned up, bandaged and clad in a dark blue hospital robe, I was   
sitting up in bed with Mrs. Norris purring on my knee when the   
Headmaster found us. His weary face and his grave expression alarmed me.  
  
"Sir? Is Potter...?"  
  
"He's asleep, Argus. A sleep without dreams."  
  
"I suppose you'll be taking him back to the Castle, then?" I said,   
gruffly. "When he's recovered a bit, I mean. Plenty of empty rooms   
there. Or he can stay in Hagrid's cabin. Hagrid wouldn't mind at all.   
You know he wouldn't."  
  
"Argus."  
  
Trying to ignore the answer I could hear behind the sadness in   
Dumbledore's voice I plowed on, doggedly. "Well, all right, then. If he   
can't come to the Castle, he's got friends who're always glad to take   
him in. Ron Weasley's family..."  
  
"Argus," Dumbledore said in a tone so sorrowful and firm that I couldn't   
ignore it.  
  
"But, Headmaster, you can't really mean to send him back to those...   
those...!"  
  
The look in Dumbledore's eyes was adamant. "He is Protected when he is   
with them. Knowing your talents as I do, I am quite sure that it's not   
necessary for me to explain further."   
  
Of course he knew all about the spell that surrounded Potter when the   
boy was with his blood-kin. I supposed that he was probably the one   
who'd cast the spell in the first place.  
  
"Protected, yes," I cried plaintively, "from every possible horror,   
except for THEM!"  
  
"Sometimes, one's choices are only between what is `bad' and what is   
`worse,'" the Headmaster said, heavily. "Arrangements are being made. If   
all goes well then Harry will be able to visit with the Weasleys later   
in the summer."  
  
Dumbledore put his hand on my shoulder. "Harry is safe now, Argus. He   
will recover. You and Mrs. Norris were there for him when you were   
needed."  
  
"Well, he saved me as much as the other way around," I said. "He's a   
good boy, really. At heart, I mean. Don't tell him I said so. On second   
thought, Headmaster, do tell him. He needs to be told such things.   
Merlin knows, he probably never hears anything good about himself from   
those..." my voice trailed off. I sighed.  
  
"It's not FAIR..." I said, unashamed of the tears in my eyes. How I wished   
that Minerva was here. Perhaps she could have helped me to think of a   
way to change his mind. In my mind I began composing a letter to her.  
  
The Headmaster handed me a handkerchief. I wiped my eyes and blew my   
nose.  
  
"I'm sorry for what I called that Dursley woman, Headmaster," I said,   
miserably. "If only for the boy's sake, considering that he has to stay   
with her. It was partly her doing that I was able to break the   
Devourer's hold on Potter. I shouldn't have told her that she was a   
contemptible cow."  
  
"I believe your exact words were 'contemptible, miserly, stingy and   
shallow-minded cow'," Dumbledore corrected me, mildly. He gave me a wry   
smile. "Don't fret, Argus. Under the circumstances, your lapse of   
control was perfectly understandable."   
  
I sighed.  
  
"Where are the Muggles now?" I asked Dumbledore.  
  
"They've headed for home. I offered to call the Knight bus for them when   
I first contacted them, but they preferred to use their own   
transportation. They will not be eager to make the trip again, and I   
confess, I'm not inclined to force the issue. There are too many ways to   
intercept Muggle transportation. When Harry is well, I shall bring him   
back to them, myself. Don't fear too much for Harry, Argus. I hear that   
their neighborhood is home to all sorts of interesting strays."  
  
"Cats?" I murmured, hopefully.  
  
"Yes. And dogs as well."  
  
Presumably, he meant a specific tabby cat and a particular large black   
dog. Black and Minerva might not be Harry Potter's blood kin. But his   
godfather and his Head of House were his family too.  
  
Reassured on that score, I leaned forward to stroke Mrs. Norris. All the   
tension hadn't left me. It was very likely that this next subject was   
going to make for another uncomfortable chat, but I had a promise to   
keep.  
  
"Headmaster...?" I murmured, "There's something else. Potter and I... we   
talked. And the boy said... he told me that he..."  
  
Taking a deep breath, I blurted out, "Sir, did you know that he has an..."   
my voice softened to a whisper, "Invisibility Cloak?"  
  
The Headmaster smiled at me again. His eyes were sad, grave and fond all   
at once. "Why yes, Argus."  
  
"You KNEW?" I gasped.   
  
He nodded.  
  
Shocked, I faltered, "Headmaster... sir... I was sure that you didn't know!   
No matter what poor Severus thought...! I told him that you wouldn't... you   
couldn't possibly... Oh, sir, Potter's only a boy!" My voice cracked.   
"Look at all the trouble he gets into without even really meaning to...!   
Sir, why haven't you taken that dangerous thing away from him?"  
  
"Argus," the Headmaster's voice was solemn, "the cloak is another form   
of protection. I do have reasons for leaving it in his hands. It would   
be wisest for me not to speak of a number of those reasons. However, I   
may mention a few...  
  
"These are things you know already," he said, when I looked at him wide-  
eyed. "A powerful Stone was not used for a Dark purpose. An innocent   
little girl was not killed by an evil memory. A dear friend, unjustly   
punished for opening the Chamber of Secrets, has had his name cleared at   
last. A young man, wrongly accused and imprisoned for murder, kept body   
and soul together."   
  
He looked at me over his half-moon spectacles. "Another dear friend,   
caught in a web of dark magic, was prevented from falling to his doom."   
  
Yes, thanks to Potter's intrepid nocturnal wanderings, the Stone had   
been kept out of the Dark Lord's hands, sweet Ginny was safe and well,   
Hagrid was finally exonerated of all blame for the death of Moaning   
Myrtle, brave Sirius had kept his soul, and, yes, I was neither dead nor   
Lucius Malfoy's puppet.  
  
But still, I was troubled.   
  
"Sir, we're supposed to keep him SAFE!" I cried, plaintively. "Allowing   
him to keep that cloak is worse than irresponsible! No student should   
have such a thing! It's just plain WRONG. How can we protect him if we   
can't even see what he's up to?"  
  
Dumbledore reached over and stroked Mrs. Norris, who purred softly under   
his hands. "Visible or not, the boy isn't without resources. He's a   
brave child, and a clever one. And he has many friends who will come to   
him at need."  
  
"But it's not FAIR," I cried. "Not to Potter. Not t-to anyone!"  
  
"No," the Headmaster agreed with me, gently. "It is not fair." He   
sighed. "And you may tell Severus that I admitted as much to you. You   
will probably see him again before I do...  
  
"It may be that I have made an ill choice, Argus. If it should turn out   
that I have chosen wrongly I promise you that will say so to Severus   
myself. If I am able."  
  
When Dumbledore spoke those words a chill went through me.  
  
"Sir...?" I whispered. It was a frightened plea for reassurance. In that   
moment he looked and sounded so old that I felt like a child beside him.  
  
Dumbledore managed a smile.  
  
"The Sphinx has just told me a most amusing riddle..." he murmured,   
closing the subject. "Would you like to hear it?"   
  
  
  
  
To Be Continued  
  
  
  
Authors' Notes:  
  
emma: Thank you!! The `acid tones' belonged to Filch. I had considered another conversation between Filch and Dudley, but didn't want it to happen when they were both upset. -Ozma  
  
emma --Filch is in charge of Acidic Responses in the absence of Prof. Snape. ;-) ** You'd like to see the Dursleys deal with the magical hospital? Hmmm... I'm sensing a plot bunny here... -- Jelsemium  
  
Alan Sauer: Thank you for your very kind words on this story, and on the   
Squib stories as a whole! The reviews aren't time-stamped, but I believe   
you when you speak of staying up too late. Like you, I do most of my   
reading and writing when I should be asleep. But reading and writing are   
so much more FUN! (Tom Dietz's David Sullivan novels!! I really like   
those too!) -Ozma  
  
Alan Sauer -- Yes, Ozma's stories are wonderfully addictive, aren't they? She's made me sympathize with Argus Filch, something I never thought I'd do. She may get me to like Snape in time. (Between her and Rabbit and Jinx, I'm finding I dislike him less than I did.) ** I'm not familiar with Tom Deitz' David Sullivan books or Spearfinger, but I think I'll look for these. Glad you like my style! I hope you like my other stories! -- Jelsemium  
  
shadowycat: Thank you!! I think that any witch or wizard is capabable of   
unfocused wandless magic, since all normal wizarding children show signs   
of being magical before they actually get their wands at the age of   
eleven. I'm less sure about a general ability to do focused wandless   
magic, such as specific spells. I'd guess that it takes a lot of power   
and control to do that.  
  
The Grey Devourer underestimated a lot of people, including Voldemort.   
-Ozma  
  
shadowycat -- I expect that all witches/wizards can do wandless magic. It's just a matter of how much they can focus (and how desperately they NEED to focus.) I also expect that Harry can do a lot more than the average wizard. I think Lily's sacrifice was only part of why he survived Voldemort's attack. ** Thanks! I think the Grey Stalker figured that once Voldemort had Harry, he wouldn't notice that Harry was drained of magic and brain damaged. (Which is what I figure happens when she really gets going. The poison wasn't going to help matters, either.) ** And, yes, she is an idiot. ** I love the image of the Sphinx bowling. (Which was Ozma's idea, by the way.) Thanks, I agree, Ozma and I work well together. We've discussed story ideas before, this is the first one that actually got posted. -Jelsemium  
  
  
Alla: Thank you!! We'd never bite anyone's head off, it just wouldn't be   
nice! I think it bothers Sirius that Snape is taking out his feelings   
toward himself and James on poor Harry. I feel that a part of Snape   
regresses down to Harry's age in the poor kid's presence. Suddenly,   
Severus is a gawky teenager again in the presence of someone who looks   
just like his popular nemesis. I find it less easy to understand Snape's   
treatment of Neville. -Ozma  
  
Alla -- I would never, EVER bite the head off one of my reviewers! I hope I have better manners than that! (And I hope my debate about Snape hasn't come across as being rude!) ** I agree, I can understand Snape's hatred of Sirius. Do wish he'd give the other characters a break. Yes, even himself. ** Thanks, I'm glad you like the idea that Dumbledore asked the Sphinx to help with the last task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. -Jelsemium  
  
AET: Thank you!! Maybe Rowling will eventually let us see more of   
Snape's feelings. Harry's perspective has been deepening as the books   
progress, and maybe Harry and Snape will eventually come to understand   
each other better. That's what I'm hoping for. -Ozma  
  
AET -- Yes, a drawback of the one person POV is that we'll never really know what the other characters think. (On the other hand, can you imagine how big Goblet of Fire would have been if it had been from multiple points of view?) ** I do hope we find out more about Snape's relationship with the Potters. ** Thanks for the kind words on our story! ** Hypatia was a woman mathematician in ancient Egypt. The last librarian of the famous Library of Alexandria, no less. It's a name I like to give to intellectual minor characters. -Jelsemium  
  
Spark-Chick: Thank you!! OUCH! Wasn't the pain distracting during your   
quizbowl match? Sirius was mentioned this chapter. When Harry is released from St. Mungo's his godfather will be in the vicinity of Privet Drive to look after him. Snape isn't going to show up, but Harry and Filch are going to talk about him quite a bit next chapter. (Since the two of them tend to disagree where the Potions Master is concerned, the conversation will get a little spirited.) -Ozma   
  
Spark-Chick -- Re: the tooth implant: That sounded very, well, Gryffindor, if you don't mind me saying. How did the Quizbowl go? ** Yes, Grisionn-cradh is Gaelic. (YES! Somebody asked!) I got it from a Gaelic-English dictionary and it roughly translates to: 'Grey Torment'. ** Glad you liked Dumbledore and Hypatia being friends. As mentioned earlier, the only reason I could come up with for the Sphinx being in the maze was that Dumbledore had reason to trust her with the students. -Jelsemium  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Oooh, I want a chain-wielding Filch action   
figure! I'd settle for any sort of Filch action figure. He could come   
with a little Mrs. Norris and a lamp! Yes, that was Filch who told   
Petunia off. -Ozma  
  
Ariana Deralte -- Chain wielding Filch, I'll take one! Yes, not only could the Harpy understand Mrs. Norris, but Nagini could, too. (Which is why she said that Mrs. Norris' guess about her name was wrong. I'd tell you what Mrs. Norris said, but it wasn't printable.) ** Harry just meant that the Sphinx was with them. A Hufflepuff would understand, they usually get along with the Gryffindors. (Actually, Stan was going more by the 'It's okay" part of Harry's statement.)  
-Jelsemium   
  
Andrea13: Thank you!! I'm glad that you got to see the chapter! The site   
does seem to act oddly when new chapters first go up. (Sometimes you can   
find the new chapter pretty quickly, sometimes you can't find it even   
after the story summary has been updated to include it.)  
  
Yes, Harry really pushed himself to make sure that he got Filch and Mrs.   
Norris to safety. Poor boy, he's seen enough death.  
  
What did Filch say to Petunia in those acid tones? "The boy's alive,   
which makes you far luckier than you realize, you contemptible, miserly,   
stingy, shallow-minded cow!" -Ozma  
  
Andrea13 -- Hope you liked Filch's comment to Petunia. I think Vernon was mostly ignored, which probably bothered him more than anything anyone could have said. Vernon likes to think he's very important in the scheme of things. -Jelsemium  
  
Saphron: Thank you!! The Harpy's motives are still mysterious. She   
certainly knows of Dumbledore and may share common goals with him,   
though she's not a formal ally. She was flirting with Argus because she   
finds his surly nature appealing. Yes, the Sphinx is a very cool lady!   
(She's Jelsemium's!) -Ozma  
  
Saphron -- Thanks for the kind words! Ozma did most of the Harpy stuff. I'll let her decide if the Harpy was flirting. (Personally, I'd love to see the Harpy show up again. Hint) -Jelsemium   
  
  
Aeryn Alexander: Thank you!! I completely agree with you about Dudley.   
Poor kid. -Ozma  
  
Aeryn Alexander -- Thanks! Glad you like the story. I suppose the difference in tone you notice comes from adding my style to Ozma's. Glad you like it! ** I could learn to like Dudley. As he is now, he's like the bullies from my childhood, but most of them outgrew that stage. Dudley might possibly outgrow his. ** Thanks for the compliments on the disclaimers. I thought of one, then just kept adding them. ** The Sphinx is mostly mine, thanks! I liked her, too. Now I've got to think of an excuse to bring her back... -Jelsemium  
  
Miriam: Thank you!! Yes, there was no reason for either Filch or Hypatia   
to understand why Stan would refer to Harry as 'Neville.' It's fun to   
mess with the characters' heads. -Ozma  
  
Miriam -- Thanks! When we were writing the part with the little horrors slashing at Harry, it occurred to me that the loose clothing would be very useful here. ** YES! Exactly why I put the line about the Sphinx being a Gryffindor. You're very good at reading between the lions! (sorry, couldn't resist.) ** Yes, there are some things that Squib was not meant to know. (And Sphinx, for that matter.) The Neville reference is one of them. ** No, 'acidic' is really not Dumbledore's style. -Jelsemium  
  
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! Yes, Jelsemium did a wonderful job with Hypatia, didn't she? -Ozma  
  
Persephone Kore -- *Grin* Thanks for the kind words. Poor Harry wanted to say that the Sphinx was on their side and she was with Dumbledore, but the 'She's a Gryffindor' line came out. ** I thought I needed to lighten up the Sphinx a tad, getting her all confused was my way of giving her a 'soft side.' -Jelsemium   
  
A. Lee: Thank you!! Yes, the Grey Devourer did not choose her "allies"   
wisely. -Ozma  
  
A. Lee -- Thanks for the review! Yep, the Sphinx was with Dumbledore all along. BAD choice for the Greyling, but then, just because she was sentient doesn't mean she was SMART! The banshee was probably the only true neutral of the bunch. The Harpy isn't really with Dumbledore, she's connected another way. -Jelsemium 


	9. The Squib and the Boy Who Lived

Squib Summer  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
by Ozma and Jelsemium  
a sequel to Squib Caretaker  
Chapter Eight: The Squib and The Boy Who Lived  
  
All recognizable characters copyrighted by J.K. Rowling.  
The less recognizable ones might be under your bed.   
Maybe you should charge rent.  
  
  
  
  
Harry stirred uneasily, pushing against the stifling warmth that kept   
him pinned. He had to keep quiet or they would hear. He must not attract   
their attention. He had to get out, he had to... had to... be quiet... or   
Voldemort would hear him. Voldemort was going to...  
  
Harry bit down to keep from screaming.  
  
...Bit down on something waxy. Instinctively, Harry tried to spit it out,   
but it wouldn't budge. The effort woke him up and he tried to spit   
again, but only managed a slight gargling noise. He tried to roll onto   
his side, to reach up and feel for the source of the waxy taste in his   
mouth, but his arms were pinned to his side and he couldn't move.  
  
"Easy, Potter," a familiar voice grumped. "No need to get in a tizzy."   
Somebody pulled the waxy gag out of his mouth, leaving trails of drool   
all down Harry's chin.  
  
Harry blinked up and, after a few seconds, identified the speaker. "Mr.   
Filch!"   
  
Panicked, Harry managed to push himself free of the entangling blankets.   
He shoved himself back until he fetched up against the headboard. "I   
didn't fall asleep during detention, did I? No? I did, didn't I? What's   
the penalty for that?" He drew his knees up and buried his head in his   
arms. "Oh, it just figures, I'll go down in "Hogwarts: A History" as the   
only person to get detention during detention!"  
  
"Potter!" Filch said, gruffly. "Relax, boy. You're at St. Mungo's. Not   
at Hogwarts. And you haven't got detention. I've got the summer off too,   
don't I? Besides, you haven't done anything wrong."  
  
Cautiously, Harry peeked up at the caretaker. Filch was battered and   
exhausted. Mrs. Norris, who was curled up fast asleep on the old man's   
knee, looked more tired than Harry had ever seen her.  
  
"You look terrible," Harry blurted out, wiping at his chin.  
  
Filch snorted. "You're not a very likely candidate for the cover of   
Witch-Weekly yourself at the moment."  
  
"No... I meant that you and Mrs. Norris almost died... I'm sorry."  
  
"If you don't stop apologizing, Potter, I'm going to stick this thing   
back in your mouth," Filch growled. "The Nurse put it there so you   
wouldn't bite your lip again, but it also kept you from spouting   
nonsense. You've done absolutely nothing that you ought to feel sorry   
for!"  
  
*******  
  
I really hadn't meant to snap at Potter. My talk with the Headmaster had   
left me unsettled and uneasy and the scared look on Potter's pale face   
when he'd awakened and recognized me had filled me with shame. Of course   
the boy was afraid of me. Didn't I *want* to have that effect on the   
students? Hadn't I bragged about it to Potter's cousin?  
  
I was in fine company, too. It seemed that those Dursleys had done a   
pretty fair job of scaring Potter themselves. Locking him up in a   
cupboard when they weren't forcing him to slave away like the most   
wretched of house-elves. He'd rather chew his lip to bloody ribbons than   
anger them. And I was no better than they were. No wonder he looked at   
me like that.  
  
I stroked Mrs. Norris. She purred sleepily, which soothed me a bit.  
  
"Speaking of detentions, I can't have you clean the Castle any more..." I   
muttered. "It's not a punishment for you, is it? Just business as usual.   
I suppose that Aunt of yours is every bit as exacting a taskmaster as I   
am."  
  
"Oh, no, she's even worse," Potter said. Then he looked chagrined, as if   
he wasn't sure if he'd insulted me or not. "Sometimes you tell me when   
I've done a good job," Potter offered. "Aunt Petunia never does."  
  
That wasn't much of a consolation.  
  
"Oh, Merlin, everything I say is coming out wrong," groaned Potter. He   
scrunched back into the bed. "I mean, I should be thanking you for   
risking your life to save mine, but everything's coming out RUDE!" He   
caught his lower lip with his teeth.  
  
I glared at him. Thankfully, he caught on before I had to wave the wax   
gag under his nose.  
  
There was a long silence while he got himself propped up in the bed.   
Finally, he said "Mr. Filch? Could we, erm, start this conversation   
over? I mean, I wasn't properly awake the first time and I was still   
sort of stuck in the last nightmare and I wasn't being very, what I... oh,   
Merlin." He stuck his hand out.   
  
"Thank you for coming to my rescue, Mr. Filch," he said formally. "I   
wish there was some way that I could repay you."  
  
"You don't have to repay me, Potter, I was just doing my job."  
  
"Almost getting killed for a student isn't part of your job," Potter   
protested.  
  
"No," I said with exaggerated huffiness. "Almost getting killed BY a   
student is more the norm." I gave him the evil eye. (Like a Squib could   
actually make that trick work.)  
  
Potter looked startled, then he managed a faint smile. "I hope you   
realize it's not deliberate," he looked down at his hands and made an   
effort to straighten his blankets. "Some of us don't mean to be bad, it   
just... comes out that way."  
  
"You're not bad, Potter," I said. "Trust me, I've seen much worse than   
you." I gave him a sideways look. "A little discipline is all you need."   
I tried for a joke. "As I was saying, since cleaning doesn't bother you,   
I'll have to come up with something else; something really special just   
for you."  
  
Potter looked at me wide-eyed, then his lips twitched. "Oh, NO, Mr.   
Filch," he said with the same look of wounded innocence that his father   
used to try on me. (Harry was much more convincing than James had ever   
been.) "You don't need to go to all that extra effort on MY behalf. The   
usual, run-of-the-mill detention will be FINE!"  
  
He looked at his hands again and his smile grew shy. "That's something   
else I'm grateful for, by the way. That you've never treated me   
differently than you treat the other students."  
  
"Where it matters most, you're NOT any different from the other   
students," I told him. "Brats, the lot of you. Messy and thoughtless and   
inconsiderate..."   
  
My voice trailed off in a sigh. I stopped my litany of grouchy   
complaints. They were safe, familiar, and they were even making the boy   
smile, but Potter deserved more honesty from me.  
  
"Potter," I said, gruffly, "the things about you that are different... you   
didn't ask for them. It's plain that you'd be perfectly happy if you   
were The Boy That Nobody Ever Heard Of, and you could have your own Mum   
and Dad alive and well and waiting for you to come home to them on   
Holidays..."  
  
The boy blinked a few times rapidly, but kept looking at me.  
  
"...where, undoubtedly, they'd scold you for all the mischief you'd got   
yourself into during the term," I continued. "Though James couldn't have   
been too cross with you, seeing how he got into plenty of trouble   
himself. And Lily never seemed like the type to stay angry for long   
either so they wouldn't have been too hard on you."  
  
Potter looked wistful. "Thank you for not saying anything too bad about   
my Dad. I don't suppose that you must have liked him very much."  
  
I snorted. "How would you feel about someone who'd blown up your toilet?   
Though your godfather told me recently that the exploding toilet was an   
accident. They were trying to get rid of some fireworks..."  
  
Potter was trying not to grin and failing miserably. I didn't mind the   
grin, but I tried not to show it.  
  
*******  
  
Filch was trying to cheer him up. Actually, he was succeeding, more from   
the fact that he was trying than from anything he said. "I guess I owe   
you a toilet, if nothing else," Harry said gravely. He was rewarded with   
a sardonic look from Filch and a catly smirk from a sleepy Mrs. Norris.  
  
Harry fiddled with the blankets a little. "Mr. Filch? Would you do me a   
favor?"   
  
Filch eyed him warily. "It depends on the favor, Potter."  
  
"Would you NOT tell Sn... Professor Snape that you know about the   
Invisibility Cloak?"  
  
Filch shook his head. "Listen, Potter, if Ron Weasley or Hermione   
Granger had been right about something for years and you kept telling   
them that they were wrong, only to find out that YOU were the one who   
was wrong... would YOU deprive them of the chance to gloat?"  
  
"But Ron and Hermione don't even LIKE to gloat!" Harry paused and   
reconsidered this. "Well, maybe Ron does a little, but Hermione is above   
that sort of thing, really."  
  
"Don't be cheeky, you know what I mean. It wouldn't be fair."  
  
Harry snorted. "FAIR? Since when is Snape FAIR?"  
  
"That's Professor Snape to you, boy."  
  
"And why should I show any respect for a bullying git..."  
  
Filch looked annoyed. "He's not..."  
  
"He is! He's worse than the Dursleys! He's as bad as Vol..." Harry choked   
to a stop because Filch had lunged forward and shoved the wax gag back   
into his mouth.   
  
"Enough! Sn... Professor Snape is an honorable man," Filch snapped.  
  
Harry tried to glare, but suddenly his vision blurred and his eyes were   
burning. Oh, Merlin, please don't let him burst into tears now.   
Something about his expression must have given Filch pause. The   
caretaker averted his eyes and moved away, allowing Harry to pull the   
wax gag out again and swipe at his eyes.  
  
Filch sighed. "I'm sorry, Potter. I know that Professor Snape isn't   
exactly fair when it comes to Gryffindors in general and you in   
particular. But he's not a bad man, really he isn't. He's saved my life,   
and yours as well. Please don't classify him with You Know Who."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because I'm asking you not to ... and because you SAID you wanted to   
repay me for saving your life," Filch said.  
  
Harry's eyes went wide. "Oh. I..." he slumped down. He buried his head in   
his arms and tried to organize his thoughts for a long time. Filch   
obviously liked Snape, and Harry had always known that Dumbledore liked   
and trusted Snape. He couldn't get past everything that Snape had done   
to him, or had said about his father, though. He knew that Snape had   
only saved him to repay his debt to Harry's Dad. But he didn't want to   
part on bad terms with Filch, not after what they'd been through.   
  
Finally he gained control of his jumbled thoughts long enough to say:   
"I'm sorry I lost my temper. I'll try not to hate him. I promise I'll   
never compare him to... to the Dark Lord again."  
  
Filch sighed and sat back on the other bed. "Thank you, Potter."   
  
Harry finally realized that Filch was a patient, too. "I hope you're not   
badly hurt, sir," he said, a trifle lamely.  
  
Filch was apparently ready to accept an olive branch, no matter how   
lame. "No, they just wanted to keep me for observation," he said.  
  
There was a long silence as they both calmed down. After a while, Filch   
broke it. "So, you were on the stairs that night," he said. "And yes, I   
do realize I owe you something for that."  
  
"Owe me for what?" Harry asked. Some of his attention was diverted and   
he dabbed at his lower lip. It was itching as it healed. He wondered why   
the Nurse hadn't healed it completely like Madam Pomfrey would have.   
Maybe she wasn't as powerful?  
  
"For keeping that urn from falling on my head the night that I knocked   
Moody down the stairs," Filch elaborated.   
  
Harry shook his head. "Oh, I hadn't thought about that," he said.   
"You're welcome, by the way."  
  
"Then what did you think I meant?"  
  
"I thought you meant that night during the Tri-Wizard Tournament when   
Barty Crouch, Jr., disguised as Professor Moody, broke into Snape's   
office."  
  
Filch's mouth flickered. "I'd already figured out you were there, then.   
Professor Snape said as much, but I didn't believe him." He looked   
curiously at Harry. "Where exactly were you?"  
  
Harry made a wry face. "I forgot about the trick step on that   
staircase," he admitted ruefully.  
  
"Got stuck, did you?" Filch seemed as if he were trying not to crow.   
"I'm surprised that Professor Snape didn't catch you."  
  
"He almost did," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "If he had taken one more   
step, I think I would have died of a heart attack... or maybe sheer   
embarrassment."  
  
"It would have served you right," Filch said, still amused.  
  
Harry pulled a face at him, but didn't answer verbally. This time, the   
silence was a comfortable one, and it lasted until Harry broke it   
timidly. "Mr. Filch? Do you have to tell Professor Snape right away?"  
  
"Eh? What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, do you have to tell him that you know about the Invisibility   
Cloak as soon as you see him? Can you wait until later in the term, when   
he's in a particularly foul mood and off on one of his usual rants about   
me... then you can just casually throw in that you know about the cloak?   
It might be amusing..." Of course, it could get Filch turned into a toad,   
Harry realized.  
  
Filch sighed. Apparently he realized it, too.  
  
Harry shot him a sideways look. "I'll let you borrow it," he wheedled.   
  
*******  
  
I was aware that his offer was an attempt at bribery. Nevertheless,   
Potter was actually willing to loan me something as rare and valuable as   
his Invisibility Cloak! Where had he learned such generosity of spirit?   
Certainly not from those Muggles...  
  
I could not help mulling over the possibilities. Why, I could catch   
Peeves at all sorts of mischief, to say nothing of what I could catch   
the students at...!  
  
My grin became a frown. What was I thinking? How could I possibly expect   
Potter to choose restraint over temptation if I couldn't manage to set   
him a decent example?  
  
"Nice try, Potter," I said, gruffly, "but I can't be bribed. If the   
Headmaster didn't feel so strongly that you need to keep that cloak with   
you, I'd insist that you put it in a Gringotts' vault as soon as   
possible! Besides, Professor Snape trusts me. I've never lied to him and   
I don't intend to start now!"  
  
"You wouldn't be lying to him, Mr. Filch!" Potter said. "Withholding   
information is different. After the Professor finishes gloating, he'll   
want to know why you won't confiscate my cloak! Will you tell him that   
Professor Dumbledore wants me to have it? It's not safe to make   
Professor Snape angry."  
  
"He already suspects that the Headmaster wants you to have the cloak.   
When I confirm it, I think he'll be more bitter and hurt than angry.   
He'll find the Headmaster's reasons much harder to accept than I do.   
He's always felt that your father and his friends got special   
treatment."  
  
"Yes, he's mentioned that," Potter said, wryly. "I'd have an easier time   
not hating him if he could manage to stop hating my father. Look, isn't   
that a good reason not to tell him? He's your friend. You don't want to   
upset him, do you?"  
  
Of course I didn't. It was the one argument that might possibly convince   
me. Potter was as shrewd as any Slytherin.  
  
For a few moments I remained silent, thinking. Mrs. Norris purred softly   
on my knee.  
  
"It can't be helped," I said, finally. "The Professor deserves to know   
that he was right, and that's that. Of course it'd make it easier for   
everyone concerned if you'd simply try to stay in your bed at night,   
come September. Because rest assured, Potter, cloak or no cloak, if I   
catch you out of bed in places where you ought not to be, I still intend   
to do my duty and insist that you should be punished. The rules exist to   
protect you as much as any other student."   
  
Potter had a sober expression on his face. "I understand, Mr. Filch. You   
have to do your job. I just hope you understand MY position. I'd love to   
not be involved, but the Dark Lord has other ideas. I was in bed when my   
parents were killed. I was in bed when Sirius Black broke into   
Gryffindor Tower. I slept in the same room as Voldemort's right hand rat   
for almost three years. And, no disrespect intended, but there weren't   
any teachers around when Quirrel went after the Philosopher's Stone. Can   
you imagine what would have happened to me if I had stayed in bed and   
let Voldemort be reborn when Wormtail was living in the same dorm as I   
was? What could have happened to Ron and the others?  
  
There was a long pause, then the boy sighed. "All I can truthfully   
promise is that I'll try. But sometimes things happen, things I hadn't   
planned on. Like the Tri-wizard tournament, or the Grey Woman. And the   
less people who get involved, the less people there are around me to get   
hurt. Or ...worse. Believe me, I want to keep the Castle and everyone in   
it safe, just as much as you do."  
  
"That's not your responsibility, Potter!" I protested.  
  
Harry's green eyes looked haunted; old and weary. I'd seen that look   
before, not so long ago, on another troubled young face. Who...?  
  
Oh. It had been Severus. So determined to protect the Stone. All alone   
if necessary...  
  
I decided to keep that thought to myself. Potter was unlikely to   
appreciate the comparison.  
  
Potter studied my face for a few moments, then he must have decided that   
we were being too serious, for a spark of mischief gleamed in his eyes   
as he added. "If that's not enough, then I'll promise that you will   
never SEE me break curfew!"  
  
"Very amusing, boy," I growled. Potter knew that the growl was mostly   
for effect, because he smiled.  
  
"I don't work alone, you know," I reminded him, stroking Mrs. Norris. My   
cat purred sleepily.  
  
"You ought to be resting," I continued, quietly. "If you're worried   
about nightmares, maybe the nurse could give you something. Would you   
like me to fetch her?"  
  
Potter shook his head. "I don't want any more sleeping potions. There's   
something better that you can do on your own." He looked wistful. "Tell   
me some things about my Dad and Sirius and Professor Lupin. You don't   
have to pretend that you liked them or anything. Or tell me about my   
Mum. Ginny said that you took that sketchbook away from Mum because she   
drew a sketch of you. I looked at the drawing. It wasn't as bad as all   
that..."  
  
"Hmmph..." I muttered, gruffly, wondering where to start.   
  
  
  
To Be Concluded  
  
Authors' Notes:  
  
  
Andrea13: Thank you!! When my kids and I started reading the Harry   
Potter books together (taking turns reading out loud) the chapters   
featuring the Dursleys would often make me say "poor baby!" My sons   
didn't see Harry as a 'poor baby.' Harry was resourceful and brave and   
the Dursleys would surely get what was coming to them someday. I love   
the way that the stories have so many different levels. By the time that   
we got to "Goblet of Fire" my sons were old enough to read the book on   
their own, but we also read quite a lot of it aloud to each other. And,   
that scene when Molly Weasley held Harry like a mother, and it was the   
first time that he could remember being comforted like that... well, all   
of us got choked up. I enjoy seeing the boys appreciate more of the   
stories' levels as they get older. -Ozma  
  
Andrea13 -- Thanks! It's really the little details that really show what a person's situation is like. ** I'm glad my nightmare scene worked. -Jelsemium  
  
Alla: Thank you!! Poor Albus, he's got so much pressure on him to be   
right all the time. And his choices really were between "bad" and   
"worse." I'm sure that he aware that Harry's situation at the Dursleys   
is pretty horrible. And I'm sure that he's not happy about it at all.   
But he obviously considered the alternative to be even worse, or he   
wouldn't have left Harry on Privet Drive. Thinking up Filch's insult was   
fun! I'm glad that it made you laugh! Yes, check out Jelsemium's other   
stories!! -Ozma  
  
Alla -- Ozma does have a way with words. I thought Filch's comment to Petunia was great. Harry will be sorry that he missed that, if he ever finds out about it. ** Guess I didn't come off as rude, thanks. ** Glad you like my writing! Hope you like my other stories! ** I've just recently taken up the habit of putting Author's Notes at the end of each chapter. Glad they're as fun to read as they are to write! -Jelsemium  
  
Mysterious Unsigned Reviewer: Thank you!! I find Filch a refreshing   
character too. He's pretty much the opposite of everything that a hero   
usually is; old and unattractive, with a menial job and a sour   
disposition. I love his sarcasm and his black sense of humor. I love his   
feisty attitude. I love the way that he believes himself to be   
completely hard-hearted and unsentimental when the opposite is true. The   
old grump is such fun to write! -Ozma  
  
Anonymous -- Thanks! Um, I do have one 'cute Harry falls in love with Ginny' story underway. (But it will have other things in it.) I also have an action packed adventure with Harry, Hermione, Ron and a really big worm. -Jelsemium  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! -Oooh- Filch action figures, I'll take a   
dozen for me and a dozen more for Jelsemium! Regarding why Harry's   
situation affects Filch so deeply, see my note to aurendel, below. Filch   
also feels ashamed that he didn't pick up on the clues. Thanks for the   
kind words on Filch's insult to Petunia! -Ozma  
  
Ariana Deralte -- Ozma did a great job on that scene with Argus and Albus, didn't she? (Argus and Albus sounds like a comedy team, doesn't it?) ** I hope those Filch action figures come with Mrs. Norris and Founder's Doors! -Jelsemium  
  
aurendel: Thank you!! I loved Filch and the Dursleys too! That scene was   
so much fun to write. What truly distresses and horrifies Filch about   
Harry's situation is the way that Harry's family considers him a shame   
and an embarrassment. Filch's parents loved him and cared for him,   
despite his "disability" and Filch expects most families to be like the   
norm that he's used to. Filch was taught to work hard because his   
parents wanted to make sure he would be able to earn his keep. With   
their mistreatment of Harry, the Dursleys have completely twisted the   
work-ethic that Filch holds so dear. They've turned their own flesh and   
blood into a virtual house-elf!  
  
Yes, Filch will eventually apologize to Severus for not believing him. I   
loved your description of Snape's shoulder-chip! -Ozma  
  
aurendel -- Yes, Filch is finding out that not even Famous Harry Potter has it all his own way all the time. Or even much of the time. ** I think Snape would be a lot happier if he'd just realize that the Gryffindor success is not just dumb luck. (Not that dumb luck hasn't been a factor.) ** Somehow I can see Snape and Sirius making the same complaint... "You always favor HIM!" -Jelsemium  
  
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! Yes, Dumbledore did turn Filch's world   
upside down. I had fun with the scene where Harry pointed out all the   
ways that Filch had made him behave. Filch understands Mrs. Norris   
pretty well, for a human who doesn't speak `cat.' But McGonagall gives   
him literal translations every now and then. -Ozma  
  
Persephone Kore -- Thanks for the review! ** I'm not sure that understanding Mrs. Norris all the time would be a good thing. There are some comments best left to the imagination. -Jelsemium  
  
shadowycat: Thank you!! I agree that the spell of familial protection   
would be strongest if there was love present between Harry and the   
Dursleys. But Harry clearly inspires some very powerful feelings in   
Petunia. Old bitterness, terrible jealousy, all the things that can   
never be resolved between Lily and Petunia. These feelings can create   
some pretty potent connections as well. My take on the situation is that   
Dumbledore's spell can somehow channel powerful emotions into a   
protective spell, even if they're negative feelings.  
  
Harry was afraid that Voldemort could see him too, but so far there's   
been no evidence that the connection is two-way. For Harry's sake, I   
hope it isn't.  
  
Yes, Filch was terribly frightened to hear Dumbledore admit that he   
might have made a wrong choice. And it's a brilliant point (with which   
I completely agree) that Snape would be unnerved as well to hear the same admission from Albus. You're right, this puts a terrible burden on Dumbledore. Probably one of the reasons that Albus enjoys his friendships with unusual beings such as Hypatia, the Sphinx. -Ozma  
  
shadowycat -- I've always thought that the spell that protects Harry is based, in part anyway, on the fact that Harry's an orphan, and that he was orphaned by violence. If it was just a matter of blood relatives, then why not put that spell on the Potters earlier? I don't think it's based on love for the same reason. ** I don't know if Voldemort can see Harry. That was not really based on anything but Harry's fears. ** Yes, Dumbledore has a big burden, doesn't he? He can't afford to make mistakes, and yet he's only human. -Jelsemium  
  
Spark-Chick: Thank you!! Hyperextending your knee and biting through   
your lip... OUCH!! Be careful running to the car!! -Ozma  
  
Spark-Chick -- You poor thing! Sorry to hear about your past experiences with hyper extended knees and bitten lips. ** Congratulations on your Trivia Bowl win! ** Thanks for the praise! -Jelsemium  
  
Aeryn Alexander: Thank you!! Harry's nightmare gave me the shivers too!   
(Jelsemium wrote that chilling scene.) -Ozma  
  
Aeryn Alexander -- Thanks for the review, and for telling us what part you especially liked. I agree that Dumbledore admitting that he might have chosen unwisely is scary, but understandable. Ozma did a good job with that! ** Glad the nightmare gave you shivers. It gave me the shivers when I wrote it, so I figured that it was going to work. -Jelsemium  
  
Larania: Thank you!! 'With practice, would Filch be able to see through   
  
invisibility cloaks?' Hmmm. Good question. I don't think that he'd   
actually be able to SEE through one, but it's conceivable that he could   
learn to sense the "void." (Moody just LOVES that idea. Perhaps next   
term he'll ask Harry stay up late with his permission, so Filch can   
practice stalking him.) -Ozma  
  
Larania -- I don't know that Filch would be able to see through Invisibility Cloaks, but he might be able to sense the presence of one. Could give poor Harry a nasty shock some night. (Better yet, give some other Invisibilty Cloak owner a nasty surprise. Could be more than one of the things at Hogwarts!) -Jelsemium   
  
aniwda: Thank you!! You've described how wonderful it feels to read   
reviews!! Ah, fan-fic writing and reviewing can be such a delightfully   
symbiotic process! -Ozma  
  
aniwda -- Thanks, glad we can help brighten up your day! -Jelsemium  
  
A. Lee: Thank you!! Poor Filch. Harry and the Invisibility Cloak may   
well become Filch's next big lesson with Moody... -Ozma  
  
A. Lee -- Thanks for the review! Yes, it was a shock for Argus to learn that Harry has the Invisibilty Cloak. I wonder what his reaction will be if he finds out that James had the cloak, too? It might explain a lot of things to him.  
-Jelsemium 


	10. Epilogue: The Boy Who Still Had Homework

Squib Summer  
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
by Ozma and Jelsemium  
a sequel to Squib Caretaker  
  
  
Epilogue One: The Boy Who Still Had Homework  
All recognizable characters copyrighted by J.K. Rowling.  
All less recognizable characters should be in bed by now.  
  
  
  
Harry kept telling himself that he wasn't bitter. He knew it was   
dangerous for him to go to the Weasleys'. He knew that Dumbledore had   
important work to get to, he couldn't expect the Headmaster to baby-sit   
him for the rest of the summer. Maybe if he told himself that often   
enough, the acid churning in his stomach would stop reminding him he   
had, once again, been dumped at the Dursleys' doorstep like a bag of   
dirty laundry.  
  
"So, even your freak friends don't want you, do they?" had been Aunt   
Petunia's greeting.  
  
"They wouldn't dream of depriving you of the pleasure of my company,"   
Harry had said with as much dignity as he could muster before sending   
himself to his room.  
  
He tried to comfort himself with the thought that at least he'd got to   
see the Weasleys and the Grangers. He'd been in the hospital more than a   
week. The day after he and Filch had arrived, he'd developed a fever and   
had been put into a separate room. The fever hadn't lasted long, but it   
had added to his recuperation time, and the hospital staff was probably   
bewildered at his gratitude for that.  
  
The Weasleys had come the most often, of course. They had an easier trip   
than the Grangers. Mrs. Weasley and Ron had been there every day, and   
the others had visited almost as often. Until Filch left the hospital,   
the Weasleys had brought treats for both himself and Filch at every   
visit. Mrs. Weasley had knitted a red scarf with gold lions for Harry   
and a purple scarf with grey cats for Mr. Filch.   
  
Ron kept bringing Quidditch magazines for both the patients. ("Look,   
Hermione, reading material!" Ron had smirked at Hermione when the   
Grangers had arrived. Hermione had just rolled her eyes.)   
  
Ginny had come several times, too. Which must have prompted the strange   
dream Harry had had about her at the beginning of the week, when he was   
still inclined to drowse off during the Weasleys' visits. He had dreamed   
that Ginny had stolen a kiss. Harry fingered the no-spill inkwell that   
Ginny had made out of clay and wondered. Surely she wouldn't have done   
something like that in a room full of her family, not to mention Filch!   
Shy little Ginny? It must have been a dream, mustn't it?   
  
The Grangers had managed come four times. On their first visit, they had   
brought him some puzzle books. On their second, they'd brought a book   
about owls. Prof. McGonagall had come by while he was asleep and had   
left him a set of muggle clothing. Harry figured that his gratitude must   
have been pathetic, because on their third and fourth visits, the   
Grangers had brought him clothing: a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt   
with an owl printed on it, to be exact.  
  
Hagrid had visited after Filch had gone home, bringing a hand carved   
puzzle box. Filch owled him some bed socks from Gladrags in Hogwarts   
(perhaps to remind him to STAY IN BED) and a wax mouth guard like the   
nurse had used earlier. Apparently, Filch had become fond of the things.   
Harry didn't really want to know what Filch had in mind for them. Fred   
and George were probably lucky Filch hadn't stumbled across them while   
they were still at Hogwarts.  
  
He'd even received a mysterious package which turned out (after it had   
been thoroughly examined by first Bill Weasley, then Albus Dumbledore)   
to be a book of riddles. The unsigned card merely said: "Riddling is a   
useful skill. Good luck, Boy."  
  
Harry sighed and thumbed through the book of riddles, then he picked up   
his Defense Against Dark Arts essay. He'd never be able to look at 'Dark   
Creatures' the same way ever again; not after the way the Sphinx had   
obviously come to their aid. The Bean-sidhe and the Harpy had also   
helped them, though not as openly as the Sphinx had.  
  
Slowly he shredded the foot and a half that he had completed on his   
essay. There was no way he could continue along his original line of   
thought.  
  
He picked up his quill. "The second most import thing in Defense Against   
the Dark Arts is knowing who your enemies are. The first is knowing who   
your friends are. It's too easy to classify people and other beings as   
'Us' and 'Them'.   
  
"However, the line between 'Us' and 'Them' can shift abruptly. So-called   
dark creatures can show themselves to be sympathetic, even heroic, while   
some humans can prove to have less humanity in them than a sphinx, or a   
banshee, or a harpy..." Harry paused, then added. "...Or a werewolf, or a   
giant."  
  
There was a knock at the door. Harry looked around, startled. "Who's   
there?"  
  
"It's Dudley."  
  
"What do you want?" Harry asked crossly.  
  
"I've brought you some tea," was Dudley's surprisingly meek answer.  
  
Harry opened the door. Dudley stood in the hall with a tray of tea and   
scones.   
  
"It didn't look like you'd eaten much breakfast," Dudley said, almost   
shyly.  
  
Harry stared at him. "What's got into you?" he demanded.  
  
Dudley scuffed his foot on the floor. "Look, I know I've never been nice   
to you before but, well, I never... ." Dudley hesitated. "I thought you   
were going to die!"  
  
"I didn't think you cared," Harry said, bewildered.  
  
"I didn't think I cared, either," admitted Dudley. "But I didn't... I   
mean..." he held up the tray. "Tea?" he finished.  
  
"Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would have a fit if they knew you were   
feeding me." Harry said warily.  
  
"I know," Dudley said. A look of... defiance?... flashed across his pudgy   
face. "I don't care. I'm tired of them treating me like a three year   
old."  
  
There was a long pause. Then Harry moved back and let Dudley come in.   
Yes, the line between 'Us' and 'Them' can shift unexpectedly.   
  
*******  
  
Epilogue Two: 'Dear Minerva...'  
  
  
Seated behind my desk, chewing thoughtfully on the end of my quill, I   
contemplated the letter I was writing to Minerva McGonagall.   
  
My lovely professor had briefly interrupted her previous mission to   
visit St. Mungo's. She had gone to look in on Potter while he'd slept,   
and had then spent a while sitting with me. I had poured out my heart to   
her on the subject of the boy. The heavy burdens that he was expected to   
carry, the miserable situation at his Aunt's house and my own guilty   
feelings over the way I'd treated him in the past.   
  
Minerva had no answers to offer, but her presence had been a great   
comfort.  
  
"Thank you for being so patient with my railings," I wrote. "I know that   
you don't like to see him with those Muggles any more than I do.   
  
"Yes, I know that I am not the worst of the evils that the boy has faced   
in his short life. But I do have many bitter regrets. Things I wish that   
I had not said to him, chores I wish I had not given him to do. Most of   
the brats come to us so dreadfully spoiled... I consider it my duty to   
show them that the sun does not rise and set according to their whims. I   
wish that I'd known he was different. I should have guessed. There were   
things that he said, clues that I was too blind to see. I must try to   
make it up to him, somehow.  
  
Rest assured that my idea of making amends will NOT be to treat the boy   
indulgently...  
  
"I'm very glad to hear that the boy is now under your watchful eye and   
the Pup's too. Even if the poor child doesn't know that the two of you   
are so near. Please try not to let the Pup talk you into doing anything   
reckless. You know that you will have to be prudent enough for everyone   
if there is any sort of trouble..." sighing, I crossed out `if,' and   
wrote `when' instead. "...from either those Muggles the boy lives with,   
or anyone even worse.  
  
"I really did not expect A- D- to change his mind on the subject of the   
boy's summer lodgings, but I thank you for trying anyway.  
  
Minerva, please, do not worry about me. I promise that the misadventure   
caused me no lasting harm. Hagrid has delayed his leaving for over a   
week now, first because he was worried about the boy and then because he   
wished to allow me time to recuperate. But owls bearing perfumed   
missives signed "O- M-" have been arriving for him in ever increasing   
numbers. I do not expect him to wait for much longer.  
  
"Do you remember the card that came to me at St. Mungo's from someone   
named `Celaeno?' It turns out that Celaeno is the Harpy. Hagrid knows   
her. The oaf was rather amused to learn that she'd sent me a card. I've   
written her a polite thank you note in return. Staying on a Harpy's good   
side would be the most prudent thing to do. Not that a Harpy actually   
HAS a good side, but you know what I mean.  
  
"Things at the Castle have been, for the most part, uneventful since I   
wrote to you last. Peeves hasn't been too much of a nuisance since the   
time he got too close and I was able to shove one of those wax gags in   
his mouth. What useful things they are!  
  
"I am sorely tempted to ask you to give the Pup a good swift kick for   
me. I never should have let him talk me into redecorating Myrtle's   
bathroom! The brat still clings adamantly to the idea of purple stalls,   
but I think that she may be willing to consider a rather pleasant shade   
of pale green for the walls.  
  
"Please, dear Minerva, look after yourself, the boy and the Pup. And   
write to me again, as soon as you can.  
  
"Mrs. Norris sends her regards as well.  
  
All my love,  
  
  
Argus."  
  
*******  
  
  
Epilogue Three: The Predator's Wake  
  
  
The Sphinx was at the Leaky Cauldron once again. It seemed only fitting.   
She found one of her fellow 'judges' sitting at the bar clutching a   
flagon of something in her claw.  
  
"Back again?" the Harpy asked dryly.  
  
"I decided I needed a drink," Hypatia answered in dignified tones.  
  
"Agreed," sighed a dim figure that floated in from the ceiling. "Tom, a   
whiskey and soda, please."  
  
"I'll take a whiskey milk punch, please," said Hypatia.  
  
"Whiskey Beer Sour for me," Celaeno, the Harpy grunted, gulping down the   
remains of her beer. "Might as well make it an all whiskey party."  
  
"Maybe I'll be different and have a Banshee, the Caoimhe Bean-Sidhe   
said.  
  
"Cute, girl," snorted Hypatia.  
  
"Is there some special occasion?" Tom asked cautiously. Normally, he   
would not nose into the affairs of predatory types, but the three seemed   
to be in a chatty mood, and something was definitely up.  
  
"Aye," the Bean-side said. " 'Tis a wake, Tom. The Grey Devourer will   
devour no more children."  
  
"She's definitely dead then?" asked Celaeno.  
  
"Oh, aye, she's really most sincerely dead," avowed the Caoimhe Bean-  
Sidhe. "I felt her doom on her heels when she came in here over a week   
ago, asking for judges. I feared the death I felt was that of her prey.   
I didn't realize she'd set herself against HIM, the breaker of dark   
wizards."  
  
"The Greyling was a fool all right," Hypatia agreed. "I knew when I saw   
The Boy that he'd take the day."  
  
"But he didn't kill her," asserted the Harpy. "It was the Dark Lord's   
minions who brought her before the nameless upstart. The Dark Wizard is   
the one who put her out of our misery. I am yay close to thinking I   
should feel a scrap of gratitude toward him."  
  
"The grey stalker met her doom only because the breaker of dark wizards   
won free," said the Caoimhe Bean-Sidhe. "That child will not be easy   
meat. Not when he can rally protectors around him like the broken wizard   
and his cat."  
  
Tom frowned, he hadn't gone to Hogwarts, but it didn't take an   
Arithmancy professor to calculate how many children could be called   
'Breaker of Dark Wizards.' This had to be about Harry Potter.  
  
"And us," added Hypatia dryly. "He even draws the likes of us to his   
side."The other two predators nodded. "Tom, join us in a toast, will   
you?" asked Hypatia.  
  
Tom poured himself whiskey, neat, he surely needed a stiff drink now,   
and listened for the toast.   
  
"The Boy Who Lived!" said Hypatia, raising her glass.  
  
The others echoed her words.   
  
  
THE END  
  
  
  
Authors' Notes:  
  
Jelsemium-- In case anybody's interested in the aforementioned drinks.   
(If you think it's appropriate to add this, Ozma.)  
(Okay, it's educational! -Ozma)  
  
Banshee -- 1 oz. White Crème de Cacao 1 oz. Crème de Banana 1 oz. Cream   
Combine all the ingredients in a shaker filled with ice, shake and   
strain into a cocktail glass.   
  
Whiskey Beer Sour- 1 can(s) Frozen Lemonade (from Concentrate)- 1 can(s)   
Beer- 12 oz WhiskeyDirections/Comments: In a pitcher mix beer, whiskey,   
and lemonade. Pour 1/3 of the mix with 4 cups ice in blender. (Add or   
remove ice as desired.) Blend and pour. Makes about 10 drinks. You can   
use a lot more than 12 oz whiskey and the lemonade will kill the taste.  
  
Whiskey Milk Punch Ingredients:* 2 oz Blended whiskey * 1 tsp Powdered   
sugar * 8 oz Milk * Nutmeg Mixing instructions:Shake all ingredients   
(except nutmeg) with ice and strain into a Collins glass. Sprinkle   
nutmeg on top and serve.  
  
Whiskey, Neat -- Just dump it into the glass! ;-)  
  
Alla: Thank you!! Actually, I agree with Harry too. But Filch is such a   
stubborn old grump. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't tell   
Snape that he was right about Harry's cloak. (I've been thinking about a   
scene where Filch defends Harry to Snape, the way that he defended Snape   
to Harry. Maybe in a future story.)  
  
I am hoping that the end of GOF signals a change in the way that Snape   
and Harry perceive each other. I can't wait for Order of the Phoenix to   
come out!!! -Ozma  
  
Alla -- Thanks! Glad you liked the conversation, that was pretty close to an actual conversation, since Ozma was writing Filch's side and I was writing Harry's. ** Actually, Harry wasn't even trying to keep information from Snape, he was just trying to delay its arrival a little. He wanted to put off Snape's gloat fest for a while. ** I expect that the relationship between Harry and Snape will have to change, considering the big changes that happened in Goblet of Fire. To quote Benjamin Franklin: "We must all hang together, or most assuredly, we shall all hang separate." -- Jelsemium  
  
Gramarye: Thank you for doing all these chapter by chapter reviews!! I   
thought that the spell around Harry and the Dursleys would have to be a   
rather impressive one. Though I do wonder if it would be as strong   
around Vernon, since he's not technically Harry's blood relative as   
Petunia and Dudley are.  
  
The idea that Petunia could have been referring to *all* wizards as   
"freaks" was so alien to Filch. He never would have understood if Harry   
hadn't explained.   
  
It makes me laugh whenever Filch says "Gryffindors" and means it as an   
insult. Though Minerva did turn that habit of his on its ear very neatly   
once, so he won't dare to do it around her. -Ozma  
  
Gramarye -- Thanks for the reviews! I like knowing what parts you   
particularly liked. ** I thought Ozma's description of the magic that bound   
Harry and the Dursleys was perfect. ** Poor Harry, he can't do anything right   
around Petunia. She doesn't want him there, but she doesn't want him to go   
someplace where he'll be happy, either. ** Yeah, we worked hard getting in   
some nasty cliffhangers. Wouldn't want to disappoint our audience! ** I liked   
'Gryffindors' as an insult, too. So I started using that. ** I expect the   
Dark Creatures would be afraid of Voldemort. They're in just as much danger,   
if not more, from him than any of the witches or wizards. ** Yes, it never   
occured to Filch to think that The Boy Who Lived was not well treated at   
home. ** Yep, Harry's talent for trouble decided to not take summer off this   
year. Poor baby. I wonder what J. K. has in mind for him. -Jelsemium  
  
Goggled Monkey: Thank you!! Filch resisted the temptation to accept   
Harry's offer to let him borrow the Cloak. The talk between Filch and   
Harry was especially fun to write, Jelsemium and I wrote that scene as a   
real give-and-take exchanging dialogue via e-mail. (She wrote Harry, I   
wrote Filch.) Even if Filch feels more kindly towards many of 'the   
brat's he'll still yell at them for breaking rules and for tracking mud   
on his beloved floors. -Ozma  
  
Goggled Monkey -- Thanks for reviewing! Glad you liked the conversation   
between Harry and Filch. Harry's a good kid, really. Not sure where he   
learned good manners. Maybe a case of the Dursleys enforcing a 'Do as I say,   
not as Dudley does' rule. -Jelsemium  
  
Durayan: Thank you!! No, Filch didn't understand that Harry doesn't   
really mind cleaning the Castle. (Harry probably enjoys being told when   
he's done a good job for a change.) I agree that it's difficult to   
imagine Snape and Harry learning to appreciate each other. Though I'm   
hoping that it's something Rowling will have happen in the books. -Ozma  
  
Durayan -- Thanks for reviewing! Find anything interesting under your bed?   
I've got a Harry Potter poster under mine right now. (Flattening it out so I   
can put it on my wall. ** I loved Filch comparing Dumbledore to Hagrid and   
Dumbledore taking it as a compliment. (Ozma's doing, by the way.) ** Yes, I   
like to see Filch as being fair minded. True, it's not the tasks themselves   
that are abusive. There's nothing wrong with having children do some   
housework. It's the extent of the work Harry was expected to do, and how   
little reward he got for it. ** It will be a while before Harry and Snape   
really get past their distaste for each other, if they ever do. I wonder   
where Rowling will go with this relationship. -Jelsemium  
  
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Yes, the Filch action figures MUST come with   
the Four Doors. And how about playsets of the Founders' Secret Chambers?   
Helga's Workroom, Rowena's Library, Godric's Keep and Salazar's Study   
(which hasn't shown up yet.) I love the beds and the porcupine quills!  
-Ozma  
  
Ariana Deralte -- Thanks for the lovely, long review! ** I did enjoy having   
Harry explain his rule breaking to the disciplinarian. ** Thanks for the   
compliment on the trick stair dialog. Filch would know about that stair of   
course, so he could easily picture where Harry was during that confrontation.   
He might want to mention to Snape that Harry almost had a heart attack then.   
** I like a story with that combines action with some interesting   
conversations. Glad the conversations worked! ** Filch's very own hospital   
bed? What about Harry's? He winds up there at least once a novel. Love the   
idea of buying the Doors separately, with porcupine quills! So, does the   
Sirius pack come with a big black dog? And will there be a pack with the   
chains and manacles? How about a Neville and melted cauldron pack? Whoa, it's   
late, I'm babbling... better finish Durayan's comment... -Jelsemium  
  
Shadowycat: Thank you!! I agree about Snape's reaction to the news of   
Harry's awful home-life. He'd be shocked and apalled but he wouldn't let   
it show.   
  
Filch knows that he has a tendency to be petty, especially when he's   
tired and feeling overworked and put upon. He tries to be honorable, but   
is unaware that he sometimes succeeds. -Ozma  
  
Shadowycat -- Thanks for the review! Filch tends to underestimate himself.   
(As does Harry.) ** I think Snape would be shocked if he ever met the   
Dursleys. I hope Rowling does that someday. ** I'm glad you liked Harry's   
explanation. Yes, both Harry and Filch have good reasons for their actions. I   
think that's what makes any conflict between them so interesting. They're   
both trying to do the right thing. -Jelsemium  
  
Angel: Thank you for your story comments!! Harry was pretty traumatized, and not really ready to talk yet. -Ozma  
  
Angel -- Thanks! I think that Dumbledore realized that Harry was really in no   
condition to talk right then. He was poisoned and not really coherent. (As   
witness him calling the Sphinx a Gryffindor.) -Jelsemium   
  
Spark-Chick: Thank you!! Yes, Filch was wise not to verbalize the   
comparison between Harry and Snape. The stories that Filch tells Harry   
about the Marauder era are going to be left to the readers'   
imaginations. -Ozma  
  
Spark-chick -- Thanks for the review! It amuses me to think that Snape and   
Harry would have identical reactions to being compared. "I'm not ANYTHING   
like HIM!" -Jelsemium  
  
RADKA: Thank you for your comments on "Squib Summer" and "Squib Without   
A Clue!" Like you I'm very eager to know more about Snape. And I WANT   
BOOK FIVE!!!   
  
Yes, I wrote a new chapter of "Squib Apprentice." Wriggling through pre-  
existing plotlines is such good exercise. Dumbledore mentions "making   
arrangements" (in GOF) for Harry to spend time at the Weasleys. I took   
this to mean additional protective magic, cast by Dumbledore and the   
Weasleys to help guard Harry while he's away from his blood-kin. Pre   
GOF, Voldemort hadn't physically arisen yet, so the situation wasn't so   
desperate. -Ozma  
  
RADKA -- I don't think that Harry is ONLY safe with the Dursleys. I think   
he's just SAFEST with the Dursleys. I expect that there are special   
protections put in place on the Burrow when he's there. As for staying in   
Diagon Alley or going to the World Cup -- There are so many other Wizards   
there, it would be very risky for anybody to try to attack Harry. ** I'm   
always up for reading more Squib Apprentice, Ozma! ** No insulting Ms.   
Rowling. First, she was being sued by an idiot. (Who so thoroughly convinced   
the judge that she was a lying idiot, that he threw her case out of court   
*with extreme prejudice!* Then she got married, and now she's expecting!) **   
Another fact we have about James is that he (and Lily) were close to   
Dumbledore. (Hagrid said that in the first book.) ** Personally, I think   
Snape's actions hinge on Lily. He was in love with Lily, even though she was   
a Muggle-born. She married James, so Snape went and joined Voldemort and the   
'Muggle-borns are second class citizens' group. Then, Snape found out that   
Lily was a target, and switched back to Dumbledore's team. (In Prisoner of   
Azkaban, Fudge said that one of Dumbledore's spies tipped him off that the   
Potters were a target.) -Jelsemium  
  
Miriam: Thank you!! But, you do understand the situation with the   
Invisibility Cloak. You summed it up perfectly! Snape knows about the   
Invisibility Cloak, but Filch refused to believe Snape's story that   
Harry had such a cloak. (Rowling has never come out and said this, but I   
think that if Filch KNEW about the cloak, then he'd set up `invisible   
intruder' traps in the corridors to catch Harry sneaking about after   
hours.)  
  
Yes, Harry doesn't want Filch to tell Snape that he knows about the   
cloak because it will bring up a subject that Harry would sooner not   
bring up, and give Snape another reason to be angry at Harry. And Snape   
will expect Filch to confiscate the cloak. When Filch tells Snape why he   
won't, Harry is worried about the Potions Master's reaction.  
  
I do have an idea for a future story where Filch tells Snape about   
Harry's terrible home-life. (Filch knows that Harry would rather he   
didn't say anything, but he's hoping to soften Snape's heart towards the   
boy.) How will Snape react to this news? Well, I don't think that he   
would soften visibly towards Harry. He might go from being outright mean   
to simply ignoring him. Inside, I think that Snape would regret his past   
harshness, but it's not in his nature to apologize. (My theory about   
Snape is that he was an abused child himself.)  
  
How do I think Snape would react if he saw Harry's life at the Dursleys   
for himself? I think he'd feel honor bound to protect the boy, as he's   
done in the past from more dangerous enemies. Rabbit-and-Jinx have   
written a wonderful story dealing with that situation. `Yet Another   
Snape Meets The Dursleys story.'  
  
We're leaving the stories that Filch tells Harry about his parents up to   
the readers' imaginations. -Ozma  
  
Miriam -- Thanks for the lovely, long review, and more thanks for saying   
which parts you particularly liked. Always helpful to know what works. In   
some ways, I'd say that Filch is the most impartial adult in Hogwarts. He   
doesn't see Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs or Slytherins. He just sees   
BRATS! ;-) ** Sorry we were confusing. Yes, Snape knows about James' cloak.   
Harry was asking Argus to not admit to Snape that Argus knows about the   
cloak. (Basically, Harry is asking Argus to hold off on apologizing to   
Snape.) ** I like the idea of Argus telling Snape that Harry is not a spoiled   
brat when he tells him what he's learned. ** Thanks for the compliment on   
Harry's explanation of his rule-breaking. I worked hard on that scene. I   
wanted to explain Harry's dilemma as I saw it. ** The comparison between   
Harry and Snape is Ozma's doing and I agree, it was well done! -Jelsemium  
  
A. Lee: Thank you!! Well, we weren't quite finished last time. This is   
the ending. I had fun writing Filch being tempted to borrow the Cloak.  
-Ozma  
  
A. Lee -- Harry can be persuasive, unfortunately, Argus already had his mind   
made up. He almost got him with that 'bribe' though! -Jelsemium  
  
Andrea13: Thank you!! It's fun for me to think of Filch's assorted plays   
on "The Boy Who..." So far Harry's been "The Boy Who Distracted Snape"   
and "The Boy Who Has More Sense Than A Pair of Grown Wizards I Could   
Mention." And now he'd rather be "The Boy That Nobody Ever Heard Of."   
Harry is such a versatile young man. It's part of what makes him so   
lovable. -Ozma  
  
Andrea13 -- Thanks for the review! I liked "The Boy That Nobody Ever Heard   
Of" line too. Ozma has a way with words. How does Harry manage to be   
"endearing, pathetic, and heroic" at the same time? He gets it from his Mum   
(or rather, Mums, both Lily and Joanne). Glad we've been able to capture   
that! -Jelsemium 


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